


Loneliest Road

by ExecutiveShrimp



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Drama, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, POV First Person, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-20
Updated: 2014-01-20
Packaged: 2018-01-09 11:12:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 11
Words: 114,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1145290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExecutiveShrimp/pseuds/ExecutiveShrimp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>past 2xH, 2x1, 10 years post-war: Duo and Heero have to travel across America and Duo tries to turn the laden journey into a fun road trip. Their past brought them together. Their future might break them apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Loneliest road**

**Chapter One**

_\- You can travel the loneliest road together, but you will always be alone. -_

"I don't believe it..."

"Isn't it great?"

Great, was probably the last adjective on my mind. A mind otherwise preoccupied with a lot of thoughts contrasting with the enthusiasm that bustled beside me. When Duo had burst into the living room and had gleefully announced he had a surprise for me, the excitement in his eyes and in his voice had deceived me into thinking this surprise would be to my liking also. He had guided me outside, insisting on covering my eyes with his big, warm hands. I had nearly fatally tripped over the threshold of our front door, surely this surprise must be quite something, for it to be worth that, is what I thought. Oh how naive. I should have known that occasionally, Duo becomes infatuated by an idea that seems incredibly romantic and perfect in his mind and in theory, but there and there alone. I reality I had often come to conclusions such as impractical, time-consuming, ill-advised and that one time: a little dangerous. This surprise was all of those things, wrapped into one.

So no, "great" was not the word my tongue had been fumbling to form. As a matter of fact, I could barely refrain myself from exclaiming: "this is bordering on idiotic!" I was very aware of his feelings, he was so happy and excited and from his face I could tell that he expected me to share in this experience. I was already going to disappoint him enough without adding insult to injury with insensitive, sarcastic remarks.

"What's wrong? Don't tell me you don't like it!" He kept that smile to his face.

I looked back at the faded mint green, convertible sports car of classic make, parked in our driveway, obstructing our trustworthy, American made black SUV, from access to the road. The roof of the car was folded back, exposing the fake, white leather seats to the sun. Some of the seems were torn, some of the thread fraying in a selection of places. There was a big dent in the hood, I could only assume from the vehicle hitting something heavy. The metallic frame of the windshield appeared a little warped. Dark orange rust was eating away at the side panel above the left front wheel. The trunk of the car was held shut with an elastic rope.

"Don't tell me you do." Finally slipped out of me. I couldn't take my eyes off the mint green monstrosity.

"Heero, it's an American classic."

"Yes, I could tell from the original rust on the classic side panel."

He sighed dramatically, walking around and crouching down to inspect the attack of rust. "You always see the bad things."

"Duo, it's one giant bad thing. For me not to see it would require it to be invisible but I doubt it is equipped with that. If it is even equipped with any of modern day technological advances. Like air-conditioning." I couldn't help myself, I was so shocked by it's presence on our driveway. The fact that he had called it a classic also alluded me to the possibility he might have spent more of our savings on this thing than I could bear.

"It's not that bad, it's just a little rust." He wiggled a dark, rusty corner and scrunched up his face when he broke about three square inches straight off the side panel. He rose and wiped his hand on the back of his pants, repeating optimistically, as is in his nature: "It's not that bad."

"Why would you buy something like this?"

At my question he beamed. He proudly patted the dented hood. "For our road trip. I thought we could drive this baby East, to Washington D.C."

I sighed, feeling heavy emotions burden me anew. "Duo, it's not a road trip." I reminded him.

Duo scoffed. "We can make it a road trip, head out a little earlier, take our time, see some random stuff. And you can't take a road trip across the USA in anything other than an old school American classic!"

He was so enthusiastic, I realized in part for my benefit, but it wasn't helping me in the least. It was kind of him to try to make the best out of a difficult situation, that had been giving us both a hard time ever since it was brought to our attention, but it couldn't alleviate any of the weight that I had been carrying around on my chest for the past few months now. I doubted that it could for him. "If you really insist on taking a car instead of flying, why can't we just take the SUV?"

"Because this is a proper road trip car." He gestured to the "classic". He looked back at the shiny black SUV and noted with dismay: "That one is so proper. You won't even let me eat in the SUV."

"That's because I can still smell cheddar cheese coming out of the seat when I turn on the heat." I shot back.

Duo chuckled the issue away. "Come on, Heero, it would be so much fun! Having the top down, feeling the wind in our hair..." He trailed off wistfully.

I adamantly shook my head. I wasn't going to travel all the way across America in a battered old car for which it would be impossible to arrange spare parts should something break, which judging by the poor state the vehicle was in, was bound to happen. I stubbornly voiced my concerns.

"Oh please," Duo refuted, "we might have changed a lot since the war, but we are not completely different people! I doubt there is anything that can break that we can't fix."

Clever abuse of the fact that I prided my less violent skills acquired for and during the war, but I wasn't falling for it as easily as he may have hoped. I would still prefer us booking a first class flight and saving ourselves the trouble of a multiple day trip either with the SUV or with the Rust Ranger. However, ever since the date had been set Duo had incessantly insisted on making a fun trip of it. I presumed to function as a futile attempt to take my mind off things and to allow us a last few days alone, to reconnect before his life and consequently mine, would be turned upside down. His intentions weren't of ill origin, but I just wished he would acknowledge that it wasn't working and that he would give up already on trying to smirk and grin his way through this very real problem that had been hurting our relationship since a phone call six months ago. That was a long time of hurt that could not be erased with a last minute, impromptu vacation, which, to be honest, felt like an insincere gesture on his behalf.

He should have never done the thing for which he is now so obviously guilty, stumbling over himself to find new ways to apologize and make it up to me. I hated apologies and make-up offerings, I'd prefer people to just refrain themselves from doing anything that required something of the like.

"Look at it this way," He continued, walking around the car, inspecting it with a decidedly less than critical eye, "at least in this one you won't smell the cheese."

Strange as it was, that was actually the closest he had come to a valid argument, seeing as I hated cheese, or did after having to drive around all winter in a vehicle absolutely reeking of it. I was still unconvinced though, reluctant to spend what could be up to nine days, in the confinement of a vehicle as the dreaded day approached, when I just felt like everything would implode and the basic structures of my life would crumble. I tuned Duo out, but watched him as he raved about the car, turning even disadvantages into advantages, like one might sell a sock with a hole in it as a sock with a unique built-in ventilation system. Duo was the most important pillar that supported my life, my very being. Everything would lose it's meaning without him, it would just be events and memories pointing in the direction of an empty space. I wish something as little and insignificant as a road trip could cure me of my worries, could bind him to me indefinitely, could offer me any reassurance that this pillar of strength that I had been leaning on, was mine to lean on for the rest of my life. But nothing could offer me that security. I thought I had that kind of security, but it crumbled with that phone call, leaving me unsure about everything. If even just a phone call could change our lives to that extent, how was I supposed to have faith?

"And it's not like you can't take time off work." He continued.

Another truth. As a freelance computer specialist I was unbound by designated work hours or workdays for that matter. Going to work was a matter of answering desperate calls from companies and private owners all throughout San Francisco and surrounding areas. Not going to work was as simple as not answering my work cell phone. Duo had much of the same freedom, owning his own garage downtown, which was pretty much self-sufficient and didn't require his constant presence nor constant supervision.

"Please, Heero," his voice started to register again, "try to imagine it, driving across a long, empty stretch of road, the wind caressing your face and tousling your hair, each night a different, romantic hotel where we can make love." He closed in on me and wrapped his arms around my waist. His mouth was smiling but his eyes betrayed his inner suffering. Sometimes, when I looked into his eyes, I thought he might equally suffer from his betrayal as me. But then I remembered the devastating hurt I had experienced and I realized he couldn't possible feel what I felt, or he would have known better.

I looked at the car with a sigh, already starting to feel my resolve weakening. His body pressed against mine had that effect on me, that effect of just wanting to be quiet and let him hold me, giving into his every request because I just longed to be with him, close.

"Please." He whispered into my dark chocolate colored hair. Was he still begging me about the car? His voice sounded different, like it had sounded when... "Please." He repeated and he kissed me on the top of my head, then my forehead, then my brow, then my nose and then finally, thankfully, my lips, briefly and innocently, but it was his best argument.

When he released my lips I breathed: "Okay."

"Yeah?" A layer of sparkle hid the dark depths of his eyes.

"Yeah. Let's do it. Road trip." My voice hadn't been this monotonous in years, but my reply excited him.

He kissed me again, deeply and passionately this time, but I didn't feel it, hadn't in a long time. "It's going to be great Heero, you'll see. This is exactly what we needed." He said once our lips parted. He gave me a tight hug and then announced that we should start packing as we should leave no later than tomorrow morning if we were to make it to Washington D.C. in time. We had only nine days to cross the distance and Duo wanted to make the best of that time, promising me to show me as much as possible along the way.

Having surrendered to my fate I followed him upstairs and we both packed a duffel bag worth of clothing and personal hygiene products. We did this in complete silence, which I think reflected the state of mind we were both really in, as opposed to what we decided to show each other. I watched Duo as he went to retrieve his camera, complete with video function, from downstairs and securely placed it in a shoulder bag that he would be keeping with him, whilst our duffel bags would be placed in the trunk. I wasn't sure if he intended to take pictures during the trip itself and presumed its purpose to be related to the destination.

He reminded me, though there was no need to, to pack as many clothes as would fit, after all, we would have to make the return journey and there was no knowing how long we would stay in D.C. for. We just knew we had to be there September twenty-first. Everything else was shrouded in uncertainty.

When I was done my duffel bag was completely full, but that was okay, I carried my concerns in my chest cavity anyway. We put them in the hallway by the front door. I started preparing dinner as Duo made some calls to friends, telling them we would be gone for a couple of weeks. He kept the conversations short and to the point and thanked them as they apparently wished us a good trip. For his final call he crept out of the living room, connected to the open kitchen, I heard his footfalls come to a halt in the study at the front of the house, from where his voice - even with my acute hearing - was nothing but an indistinct mumble. What a silly precaution, as if his unsubtle departure didn't instantly make it clear to me who he was calling and what he would be saying.

His attempts to spare my feelings were increasingly futile and only added to the ache.

He kept the conversation equally short and returned to help me set the table without so much as a single word. Dinner had never been that quiet. The sound of our cutlery scarping over our plates was deafening in comparison to the silence from our firmly shut mouths. After dinner, Duo's talkative and upbeat nature returned to him, apparently he just needed the quiet to think and process in the aftermath of the phone call. Obviously he had a lot on his mind too, it were uncertain times for him as well, but for different reasons. As if out of nowhere he produced a map of North America, folding it out over the table just as I walked the last of the plates to the sink.

"Hey, Heero, come look at this." He beckoned.

I would have been happy busying myself with the dishes passive aggressively. I closed the faucet and walked back over. The road map was a chaotic collection of erratic lines that appeared to be like a piece of modern art. Not to say it was beautiful, or even remotely esthetically pleasing, but I had equally little understanding of it and it both left me completely unimpressed.

Duo had a yellow marker in his hand and used it to highlight a highway that cut right across America, from the West coast to the East coast. He marked it from San Francisco, the city that I had come to call my home, to Washington D.C., the nation's capital and my destination of pure dread. "We'll take this highway." He said, as his hand moved, dragging the end of the marker across the paper map. "It's the US-50, it goes all the way from San Francisco to Washington D.C. They call it the "loneliest road", because of this stretch here, in Nevada."

How fitting, I mused bitterly. We might as well be going alone, considering how distant we had both become lately. All this time we had been living in the same house, sleeping in the same bed, but we were miles apart. He may as well already be on the East coast. His mind I oftentimes discovered already drifting there.

"I'm going to take my Tablet with me, so we can search the internet for cool stuff to do along the way." He said without looking up at me, or the expression on my face might have alerted him to my worries, he kept his focus on the map, studying the dots that represented cities along or close to the highlighted line. "Hey look at that, it passed by Reno! We're going to make some money! You still know how to count cards, right?" He briefly grinned up at me mischievously.

I smiled back, he turned away before he could tell it was fake. I was not looking forward to this trip. As September twenty-first crept closer and closer still, it became more difficult each day to fight the urge to stay in bed all day, curled up in the fetal position, cradling my own pain. I wasn't used to being such a cry-baby, I had never been before. But that bomb had just been dropped on me as much as it had been dropped on Duo and allowing myself to silently and secretively wallow in my pain was the only way I had learned to deal with it. In hindsight it had been very reminiscent of a traumatizing experience and my behavior in the first few following days after the unwelcome message via phone, was not unlike Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, I flinched every time the phone rang and had to stop whatever it was that I was doing to focus my energy and thoughts on preventing a panic attack. Strange, I've killed numerous and put my own life in hazardous situations with similar frequency, but a simple enough phone call is the thing that has me precariously on the edge of PTSD.

Luckily that initial shock had worn off, now I was just stuck with the dull, constant pain that had it's way of becoming sharp and stabbing whenever I thought about it, or could tell from Duo's detached expression that he was thinking about it.

"Look at this." Duo said, still trying to cheer us both up and get me excited about this trip. He showed me his digital tablet that displayed a picture of an obese man standing next to a big ball of something, taller than the man himself was. "Just outside of Montrose: the biggest ball of chewing gum in the world." He spoke with an evenly distributed mix of fascination and disgust.

I leaned more to disgust, wrinkling my nose just looking at the picture. I had something else to dread, Duo's idea of road trip fun. I had a feeling we would be pulling over for the most ridiculous and random of things.

The evening came to a thankful end, I was becoming tired from pretending to listen to Duo as he searched the web for the exact same things that I feared. When we undressed in our bedroom, our backs turned towards each other, he said to me: "Thank you for doing this to me."

His sentiment extended far beyond the insignificant agreement to go on this meaningless road trip with him. But I played dumb and responded: "No problem. Maybe the biggest ball of chewing gum is interesting to see after all."

We crawled into bed, meeting in the middle for a chaste, habitual kiss before returning to our own sides of the bed, settling in for the night. With the remote Duo turned off the light, the room went pitch black.

I would not get much sleep and neither would Duo beside me, but we both feigned sleep and pretended not to be aware that the other was also still awake and that we were aware of that.

I wondered if it was dread or anticipation that kept him up during the night preceding our epic journey. After all, for him, the phone call hadn't been all bad news.

As I couldn't find sleep anyway, my mind wondered back to the day, the day when our world was our own and safe. The phone call violated that and burst everything like a sharp pin to a bubble. I was upstairs, working on the laptop of a client. I had been keeping myself busy for months. A virus had infiltrated the machine and disallowed any access by the owner. Through a protected hardwire I had linked the laptop to my own and managed to break through the barrier to start snooping around, trying to locate the virus hiding in the business files to eradicate it. That is mostly what I did on any given day. It wasn't very exciting, but that was exactly why I liked it. I had tried to take myself away from the risks, from the harm and from the pain, by starting my own freelance business years before that day, when I hadn't known risks, harms and pains would always come looking for me.

Working on the infected laptop, I found an abundant pornographic collection under files of innocent names, it had no longer been a wonder where the virus had come from. It was always the same.

I tilted my head as I curiously looked at a particular image, trying to figure out the intricate position the threesome had been captured in, trying to make sense of which limbs belonged to whom.

Then the phone rang.

Since I was working I had figured Duo would answer it, but after three rings and no sound of rushing footsteps, I realized he was probably in the garage - his own hide-out place from the risks, harms and pains - where he couldn't hear the ringing. I answered the phone myself.

"Heero Yuy speaking."

"Hello, Heero..." A female voice spoke hesitantly. "It's Hilde."

As if I hadn't instantly recognized her voice. I wish I could forget it, but I knew I never would. I didn't say anything, I was too dumbstruck that after three months she dared to call thereby neglecting the one thing I asked her to do the last time she visited; to leave us the fuck alone and die.

"I'm sorry." Sounded her words, softly through the telephone. "Can I please talk to Duo?"

Her request infuriated me. How dare she ask this of me? How dare she invade our lives like this, after what happened! But I wanted to be a better person than I knew myself to be when it came to this, so I stiffly told her to hold. I covered the receiver with my hand and took a deep breath. The thought crossed my mind to hang up on her, but I knew she would call again sooner or later. We've been through this before. With a surrendering sigh I got up and walked downstairs, my heart pounding, overwhelmed with a sordid mixture of varying negative emotions.

I opened the garage door where I found Duo kneeling by his dirt bike, turned upside down.

"Damn thing is broken again." He said, but he said it with a smile, he loved it when things broke down because he loved fixing things. And lately he appreciated any excuse to politely keep his distance from me.

How sickeningly profound that he enjoyed fixing things, considering what had been broken by his own doing and what he was still working on fixing.

That day it would only break even more.

This is not a dirt bike we are talking about. This is my heart.

"Who is it?" He asked, nodding to the phone cradled in my hands. He always tried to keep the words light-hearted, even though both our hearts must be burdened by tremendous weight.

I looked at him with dead eyes. "It's Hilde." I declared.

His entire face instantly drained of all it's color. "Why would she call here?" He asked perplexed.

"I don't know. She wants to talk to you." I snapped.

He slowly approached me. "Are you okay with that? I'll only talk with her if you are okay with it."

Sometimes I think I should have stopped this conversation from ever happening. But I doubt it would have changed much and even if it did, I didn't think I would be pleased by that in the end, I would not be guilt free.

I demonstratively held out the phone towards him. "After everything, I think I'll be able to handle this." How wrong, how very wrong.

He swallowed loudly at my comment and hesitantly took the phone from me, bringing it to his ear. "Hello? Hilde?"

I probably should have left, but why would I offer them the decency of privacy? They sure hadn't gone out of their way to honor me with a sense of decency.

Hilde talked first, I couldn't hear her side of the conversation, but it was clear what she had said when Duo responded: "Anything you have to say to me, you have to say to Heero as well, so no, I won't ask him to leave."

The conversation that followed, if possible, made Duo's face whiter still, his face expressed his severe shock.

I stood there with my arms folded across my chest for the duration of the conversation. Duo said very little and nothing of any meaning, only mindless repetitions of "Oh" and "Right" and the infrequent: "Yeah, I know".

He hung up after what was in hindsight a surprisingly short conversation. I guess Duo had been just too shocked to continue it.

When he summarized the news in a single sentence, of only three words, my face had gone as pale as his.

I turned over to look at the ceiling. Listening to Duo's breathing, it appeared he had finally fallen asleep. In the back of my mind I could still hear him saying those three words, his voice shaky, his eyes wide. I could hear it so clearly it was like he was saying it to me all over again. "Hilde is pregnant." That is all he said and all he needed to say. I knew instantly that Duo had gotten her pregnant. Why else would she call us? Sometimes I blamed her for not keeping this news from us, she lives on the other side of the country, we would have never found out, we would have never contacted her anyway after what happened. But that was a terrible thing of me.

Due to a history of complications during childbirth on her mother's side of the family, Hilde's doctors had decided it would be safest for her to be induced in the hospital as soon as the pregnancy was full term. The date that had been set was September twenty-first. That was the day Duo and Hilde's child would be born. Their child. Their baby. And of course, after things had settled over the past few months, Duo wanted to be there, to witness that special moment. He wanted to witness the birth of his child. Something I had nothing to do with, but he had begged me to accompany him, almost as if he was completely insensitive to how hard this was for me.

I wish I could have made him stay with me, force him to stay, but I didn't have the heart for it. I hated Hilde, I hated what they had done to me, I hated how I felt, I hated the thought of it which I just couldn't suppress. However, I did not hate Duo. I loved him and for that reason I would not deny him this, I would not deny him the chance to be a father, because I knew how much he yearned for that. Who was I to take that away from him, for the selfish reason of my own hurting?

So we were to travel to Washington D.C., where Hilde lived, before September twenty-first, so father, mother and child could be together.

We would travel there together, but I feared I would be returning home to San Francisco alone. After all, in Washington D.C. he would have a family, in San Francisco, he only had me.


	2. Chapter Two

**Loneliest Road**

**Chapter Two**

_\- Emotional baggage is the heaviest kind -_

It was finally morning. Even though the day was dreaded, I was relieved that my alarm clock went off. I had been awake most of the night, dozing off only for brief periods of time to have frightening dreams that warned me of the exact thing I tried not to think about.

Beside me, Duo was in the process of waking up, going through his ritual of groaning and stretching all his limbs. Only when he was completely done, with all of his joints popped and revitalized, did he say with a hoarse voice:

"Good morning."

"Good morning," I replied, even though it was anything but.

The chirping of the birds outside, to which I was listening in search of my calm and strength, was interrupted by a sharp and obtrusive sound. It took me a moment to recognize it was not my alarm clock, but the phone. I didn't get up to answer it. I hadn't answered a phone in a long time, I didn't see a valid reason to start anytime soon and subject myself to reliving painful memories.

Duo kicked the sheets away from him. He knew that answering the phone was his duty now. Barefoot, he padded across the carpeted floor to the phone that was in its docking station on the dresser. He looked down at the screen where the number of the caller would be lit up in blue, accompanied by a name if it was someone in our personal phonebook. His shoulders slumped as he seemed to deflate. "It's Quatre," he said, without answering it. He walked back towards the bed and leaned over from his side to hand me the phone.

I took the phone from him and after a moment to control my emotions, I pressed on the green icon and held the phone against my ear. "Hello?"

"Heero..." a kind voice breathed, crystal clear even though he wasn't even on this planet.

"Quatre, hello. How are you doing?" With dull eyes I watched Duo wordlessly excuse himself and head to the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

"I didn't call to talk about me. I called to ask you that question." My friend said.

"You really don't need to check up on me." My assurance was in vain, in spite of it, he had been regularly checking up on me for a long time now.

"Well, maybe you don't need it, but I need it."

With the phone pressed to my ear I slowly started getting out of bed, reluctant for this day to be set into motion.

"Trowa told me you guys are leaving today," my blond friend explained, sounding overtly worried.

"Yeah, it's a long drive and... Duo wants to make some sort of road trip out of it."

"What do you want?" Quatre asked seriously. He was quick to add: "You know I will support you in whatever you decide, but do you really want to do this?"

I started down the stairs hunkering for a big mug of strong coffee. Safely out of hearing distance from Duo, I confessed: "I don't want to go, but I have no choice. If I don't go with him, if I don't do this with him, I'm not sure if he will return to me." I saw my hand trembling as it gripped the handle of the coffee pot. "I need to remind him of us, because I know that once... it is going to be tempting for him to forget. I can't really blame him."

"Yes, you can, Heero," Quatre urged, but then he sighed. "I know you love him and I understand, I really do. I would probably do the same if Trowa... slipped up like that. But that is all hypothetical; this is real and I am really worried about you. I don't want you to end up getting hurt even more because you keep putting everyone else ahead of yourself."

I stared at the red light, waiting for it to be green to indicate my morning-courage was ready. I snorted bitterly at his words. "Putting everyone ahead of me? No. I am being selfish. If I was really putting Duo and Hilde and their-" the word hitched in my throat and I couldn't get it out, but I was pretty confident Quatre would figure out what my omission referred to, "ahead of myself, I would let him go on this trip, alone and I would be gone by the time he gets back, if he would."

"Oh, God, Heero, don't say that... No wonder I am always so worried about you..."

Green! I grabbed the biggest mug I could find, practically a ceramic fish tank, and filled it to the brim with the hot, black liquid.

"Heero," Quatre continued, "if you want to leave him, do it because you want to, not to do him a favor."

"I don't want to leave him," I said adamantly. If there was one thing I had figured out for sure, it was that. I had thought about leaving him, initially. There had been a bag on my side of the bed in various stages of being packed on several separate occasions. Every time I ended up putting my clothes back in the closet and tucking the bag under the bed. "I love him." My voice cracked and a tear appeared in the corner of my eye, surprising me and irritating me. "Shit," I muttered, furiously wiping the salty drop away.

Quatre allowed me some thankful moments of silence to regain my composure.

It took a couple of sips from the strong brew, but finally, I managed: "I'm sorry. I'm fine."

"Don't apologize. And no, you are not fine."

"I have to do this, Quatre. We have made it this far. We have been through so much. We can't give up now. I need to at least be there with him these days and I need to see for myself if this is the one thing, the insurmountable thing, that will end us. I can't just let him go and forever be left wondering."

"I know. I know," Quatre concurred.

I fell silent when I heard Duo coming down the stairs. He made a lot of noise, to ensure I would notice his approach.

"Hey. Can I have some of that?" He pointed at the coffee pot.

"Sure."

Quatre was silent on the other end of the line, waiting for Duo to leave.

"Thanks." He poured himself a regular-sized cup and then left the kitchen, probably heading for the garage to distract himself.

"Are you ever going to talk to him again?" I asked Quatre.

"Yes. But not quite yet. At least one of us should make sure he knows how hurtful his actions were." He explained, he still sounded angry. Quatre had yet to forgive him for his unfaithfulness and refused to talk to Duo ever since he heard the news. I knew he did it to show his support to me, but that is what concerned me. Quatre and Duo had been good friends too - before all this - I didn't want that to be ruined, supposedly for my sake.

Trowa had been relatively neutral in the face of all the drama, he supported Quatre in his social boycott at the beginning, but after a few weeks decided to seek contact with Duo. I had no idea what they had discussed in private, over videophone, but their friendship seemed to be amended after that.

WuFei was yet another different matter. Initially, he refused to talk to both of us, but after a while he called me up from an unknown location over a secure line to tell me with a sigh that he would respect the way I decided to handle this, but he did not wish to get involved or choose sides. We don't see WuFei very often, but it was apparent he made himself especially scarce in the aftermath of it.

"I think he is well aware of the hurting. He is hurting too. It's difficult on both of us," I told Quatre.

"I know, but still, this hurting overcame you, there was nothing you could have done to prevent this; for him, it was a decision. He should have never let it happen."

I wasn't entirely sure if there had been nothing I could have done to prevent it, but I didn't voice those thoughts. I had had a similar discussion with Quatre before, for some reason he just couldn't see my side of the argument. I think he was just too set on supporting me to put some of the blame on me. Probably to spare me additional heartache. He was a good friend, but sometimes, as a result, I suspected he was dishonest with me, to protect me.

"I should probably start getting ready," I announced unenthusiastically.

"Okay. Just remember to call me if you need anything. Anything," He stressed.

"Thank you. You are a good friend," I said and a tiny smile appeared on my lips.

"And you are a good husband. Sometimes, I think, a better husband than Duo deserves."

The smile vanished, my heart just hurt too much. "Bye, Quatre."

"Good luck. Goodbye."

I pressed on the red icon and looked at my hand, at the wedding ring in particular. My mind was void of thought, I must have still been too tired. I finished the entire mug of coffee before retreating back upstairs, putting the phone in the docking station and choosing a practical outfit for the start of our epic journey; comfortable jeans, a button-up shirt and a warm vest with a hood to create shadows to hide in.

There was a knock on the doorframe and Duo waited for me to give him an all-clear before stepping inside. Even though I thought leaving the door wide open was a clear enough effort to make things less weird between the two of us. I was wrong, obviously.

He took only one step inside and although his face sported a carefree smile which he trademarked, packaged and reproduced on a massive scale, I could tell he was cautious. He was probably concerned about what kind of emotions Quatre had evoked in me with his short phone call. Duo was well aware that he was treading on eggshells with Quatre as much as he was with me. "Are you ready?"

I grabbed a shoulder bag with things that I intended to keep on me and then nodded. There was no more stalling the process.

"Okay. Here we go." He breathed and led the way downstairs. He made a point to carry all our bags, including mine. They weren't heavy, but were cumbersome to carry all at once. Still, he refused my quiet offer of help.

I inwardly groaned when my eyes landed on the mint green convertible. The trusty SUV had been backed up into the garage for safe-keeping. I observed idly as Duo unhooked the elastic at the rear of the car and the trunk instantly popped up when the restraint was released, nearly catching his chin painfully. He put our bags in the trunk and then leaned on it with one elbow to keep the lid closed while the other worked to secure the elastic. Once done he seemed proud of his accomplishment in a boyish, impish way.

I sighed, remembering better times.

"Come on, let's hit the road!" He gestured for me to sit down in the passenger seat, even taking the trouble to hold the door open for me, something he had never done.

I eyed him warily as I seated myself in the low, exposed vehicle. I held my bag in my lap, close to my body, almost like a protective shield. Sadly it would be useless in protecting me from anything that could actually hurt me, as that came from within.

It took Duo three attempts to successfully close the door on the passenger side before jogging over to the driver's side. He didn't even open the door, instead, he climbed over it.

"Why did you do that?" I asked with a frown.

"Oh, no reason." He flashed me a grin. "Just always wanted to do that." He put on his aviator sunglasses. The sun was bright and already high in the sky. It looked like it was going to be a perfect day - weather wise, that is - but in my glowering mood I was in no state to enjoy it.

I put on my own pair of sunglasses: a large, dark pair. A pair I had bought a long time ago but actually hadn't worn yet. At the moment, the glasses were my salvation, completely hiding my eyes from sight. I had a feeling my eyes would otherwise betray me over the course of this dreaded road trip.

"Let's get this show on the road!" Duo exclaimed and reached for the old-fashioned ignition that actually still called for the driver to turn a key.

A show indeed. A tragedy pretending to be a comedy between the covers of a traveler's digest. What a farce.

Duo turned the key and the engine whinnied - actually whinnied, much like a horse, though I seriously doubted there was much horsepower left under that hood - then it sputtered, then it growled, followed by a moment of silence and then...

The engine started and enveloped us with a rumbling purr that didn't sound all that bad.

Damn it, I thought. The last chance to switch to the SUV vanished when Duo rolled the car out of the driveway and smoothly steered it onto the street.

We had barely left the perimeters of our neighborhood behind us when I inquired: "Does this work?"

Duo followed my finger that pointed at the radio. "Oh, yeah, totally! I replaced the old thing with a modern radio, works like a dream... just like this car, might I add."

I didn't respond to him even though I could tell he was looking at me, his eyes expectant behind the brown tinted glasses. I switched the radio on and started turning the dial, searching for a suitable radio station. It's not that I was in the mood for music, it was just that I was not in the mood for silence, nor conversation. That didn't leave me with many viable alternatives. I settled on a crystal clear station where the DJ talked minimally and the music was relatively recent but not too much so. You know you are getting old when you come to the conclusion that you don't like the kind of music that is currently being produced.

A soft rock song with poignant lyrics played.

Great, I thought bitterly, not exactly what I had in mind. As the singer whined on about heartbreak and betrayal, no doubt making Duo as uncomfortable as it did me, I focused my attention beyond the confines of the old car - excuse me: classic car. We just passed the exit towards Duo's garage. I knew the route to his workplace like one would know the layout of their own home. I should, I had traveled it often enough. On quiet days, business wise, I used to get my bike out of the garage and go see him. Even though he had plenty of capable mechanics working for him, he still liked to get his hands dirty. When I would arrive, he would always kiss me and hug me and tell me that he was happy I came for a visit. After a brief conversation, he would continue working on a car of his choice and depending on what part of the car he worked on, I would either sit in the car, in a chair by it, or lie underneath it, shoulder to shoulder with Duo, just watching his hands work as he fixed all that had been broken and made it good as new.

With the war so many years behind us, I never would have guessed his hands could turn destructive once more.

"Oh! I love this song!" Duo commented when an upbeat track started playing. He reached out and turned up the volume.

I blinked and looked around, the scenery had changed significantly since I last paid attention to my surroundings. We were already nearing the bridge that spanned the San Francisco Bay. The roads leading up to the old bridge had been cut off, but the bridge had been left standing, about one hundred yards removed from the new bridge of futuristic design. The structure was decaying and looked like an enormous prop from the set of a post-apocalyptic feature film. I looked at it as we crossed the bridge to the beat of Duo's song of choice. Obsolete and barren, it had nothing left to give and without its purpose it was just a matter of time before it would fall apart, however strong it had once been.

This was going to be a long journey if I couldn't stop my thoughts from dwelling on such subjects.

I scanned the dashboard, noting all the places where the finish was faded or scratched or discolored hideously. The glossy black, modern radio stood out sorely. I frowned when I noticed something was missing. "I thought you were going to put in the navigation from the SUV?"

"Oh, the navigation is in my bag, do you mind getting it?" He threw his left thumb over his shoulder, indicating that his bag was behind him.

I reached back and got it off the back seat. I placed it in my lap, after putting away my own bag on the floor of the car, between my feet. I zipped open his bag and moved around the camera, his digital tablet and miscellaneous items in search of the navigation device. I knew exactly what it looked like, but I could not detect it's familiar shape in the disorganized mess that was the contents of Duo's traveler bag.

"It's in a little inside pocket," Duo helped as he noticed the delay.

There was only one inside pocket, I reached my hand inside but did not find the rectangular form of the navigation device. Instead I felt paper against the tips of my fingers. I grabbed it and pulled it out and my mouth turned tight and thin as I identified Duo's nostalgic idea of "navigation".

When I gave up on trying to set the road map on fire by glaring at it, I turned my ferocious stare to Duo. Of course, it lost all of its power in the small space between my eyes and my glasses. I made sure my mouth clearly conveyed my displeasure.

"Please don't tell me this is it," I stated, knowing better.

Duo quickly glanced sideways, long enough to see the map I held up, flapping in the wind, not long enough to recognize the danger in my expression. "Yeah. Come on, it will be fun. It's old school!"

"Duo! What if we get lost?"

He huffed. "We were Gundam pilots."

I pushed my glasses down to the tip of my nose so I could properly glare at him. "I seem to remember navigation devices built into the cockpits," I retorted sarcastically.

"It'll be fun!" he assured me.

"It will be disastrous!"

"It's not a proper road trip if we have to take directions from a computer," he argued; then he chuckled. "You'd better turn on the navigation, make sure we don't lose our way."

"Why bother? You've obviously already lost it," I grumbled.

"Heero, don't worry so much. We just have to follow the US-50. How hard can it be?"

I had the sinking feeling both of us would end up paying for his arrogant confidence somewhere along the way. I folded the map so the exposed area was where we currently were, for the moment it was indeed the simple matter of following the highway.

"I wrote down some stuff we can go see along the way. It's on my notepad on my tablet."

Grumbling I pulled out the tablet and switched it on. God bless modern technology. I pressed my finger on the icon for the notepad and the screen turned beige with writing in a creative, swirly font to resemble handwriting.

"What's first?"

"Wine tasting," I said dryly and demonstratively looked down at my watch. It was ten thirty in the morning.

"Relax, just a little scheduling hiccup. We'll go wine tasting somewhere else."

"Why?"

"Cause it's fun."

I was about to argue but then I figured a light buzz might be a welcome way to get the edge off the discomfort and pain I was feeling. In fact, the whole trip might go a lot smoother if I just played along. However much I was hurting inside, I had to remind myself that I had not come to push Duo farther away, I had come to keep him close to me and to let him know that in spite of everything, I was still willing to give him my heart.

Above all, whether or not he remembered it at the end of the journey, when he would be overwhelmed with novel fatherly joy, he needed me with him right now. There were a lot of bad memories that we could only fight together. We had tried fighting them individually, only to discover that we needed to rescue each other. It's easier to fight the demons of the other, than it is to fight the demons of the self.

"What's next?"

I looked down the list. "Museum of Modern Warfare," I read aloud, slightly surprised by his choice of entertainment.

"Cool. We'll go there."

I looked at my watch, noting time moved slowly, and did the math. "We won't be there till the end of the afternoon."

"That's fine." He switched from lane to lane, pushing the speed, testing the car. "I already checked the website, the museum is open 'til ten o'clock. We'll walk around a bit, have some dinner and look around a bit more."

"Fine. Whatever." I put the map in the glove compartment box and the tablet back in his bag. I set it between my feet, next to my own bag.

The journey was a monotonous one. I watched the parch dry fields that we passed, the ground was bone dry and cracked under the heat of the sun. The heat picked up more but the wind in our faces and through our hair provided all the relief we required. Duo appeared to be thoroughly enjoying the car and profusely expressed his pleasure in a vain attempt to diffuse the tense atmosphere between us that the wind just couldn't blow away.

"You'll like driving it, it handles just like a modern sports scar. I toyed around with it a bit before we left of course." He didn't wait for any kind of response or even acknowledgment that I was listening because he knew he'd be waiting forever, he just babbled on, like he always did when he was worried about me or about us.

I listened to it with only half an ear. Most of my senses were attuned to our surroundings. We passed through wine plantations where the irrigation systems massively sprung alive. It was supposed to smell like rain but all I could smell was industrial grade glue that was used to secure the inside paneling of the car to the basic structure. It was quite pungent and increasingly prominent as the journey continued.

Brief glances at the speedometer verified my estimate that we were averaging close to one hundred miles per hour - probably close to the maximum speed limit for the dated vehicle - yet it seemed like we were crawling along in the great outdoors. It took a long time for the scenery to change, to show any kind of progress. The change was not a welcome one. More dry wasteland, vast and infinite. In the quivering air at the horizon were the vague blue silhouettes of distant cities, their skylines dominated by towering skyscrapers. The traffic had quickly thinned out as well and mostly consisted of large trucks and busses with tourists.

Only when Duo paused his elaborate review of the car's handling and statistics did I realize he was actually still talking about it. "We should probably stop for lunch somewhere."

"There's a gas station and diner two miles ahead," I stated matter-of-factly. We had just passed a sign indicating so. It was already two o'clock, a little late for lunch.

Apparently Duo had been too wrapped up in his appreciation for the car to notice and I - well, I didn't expect to regain my appetite any time soon. I would have made no objections to skipping meals, especially lunches. Just one less time a day we had to sit across from each other and find neutral words to make irrelevant conversation to spare each other's already hurt feelings.

"I actually had a different idea," Duo said. He looked around to check the position of the surrounding traffic before slowing the car significantly and turning it onto the shoulder. Dust flew up behind us as he steered the car into the sand and slowly let the old-timer roll away from the highway.

"Is this where you kill me and dispose of my body?" I dead-panned.

Duo laughed, long and hard, probably not because my comment had been particularly funny but most likely because he was relieved I finally made a joke, albeit a dark and sinister one, seeing how quiet I had become since yesterday. 'Progress', he would have fondly called that, a long time ago. I didn't know what he was thinking now.

"Seriously what are you doing?" I unconsciously clamped my hand down on the doorframe for support as the car shook traveling across the uneven surface.

He didn't reply, he stopped the car only when we were about fifty yards away from the highway, a trail of tire marks and slowly settling dust behind us. He got out, again, climbing over the door rather than simply opening it. He opened up the trunk, this time moving back to evade the sudden pop of the trunk lid.

I stubbornly remained seated, my seatbelt still fastened. I looked in the rear-view mirror but couldn't see much: the large trunk lid blocked my view.

He slammed it shut and walked back to the front, neglecting the elastic so the lid instantly went up again. He didn't rectify it. He was holding one of the bags he had brought along.

I watched with slight curiosity but pretended not to be interested in the least.

The first thing that came out of the bag was a thick blanket and he spread it out over the large, level hood of the car.

My mind instantly supplied images of the last time we had made ourselves comfortable on the hood of a car. It had been in Duo's garage, after hours. He had skipped dinner at home to finish a car for a customer on time, so I had come by to bring him a simple fruit salad. Instead of eating it himself, he lowered me down onto the hood and picked out the strawberries which he fed to me with one hand while the other roamed over my body, pushing aside my clothing.

"Do they taste good?" He had asked.

My reply had been: "A little sour, but I like them."

He had then proceeded to kiss me lengthily and passionately, his hands becoming more bold and focused. When we parted after the breathtaking kiss, he commented with a devious grin: "Taste perfectly sweet to me." Then his lips had descended onto mine once more, pausing only to sit up and pull off my pants before climbing on top of me, his pants undone and pushed down his thighs just far enough.

We had soiled the blanket that had been covering the hood, protecting it from scratches during work, with our sweat and passion. Three times over.

The joke since then had been that to Duo and I strawberries were an aphrodisiac.

So I wasn't entirely pleased when he started unpacking more and out came a box of strawberries among other things. I worried about his expectations, knowing that if they were what I suspected them to be, he would be left disappointed and this trip would only - if possible - get more uncomfortable.

With everything unpacked he hopped onto the hood and patted the empty space beside him, inviting me.

Reluctantly I peeled myself out of the faux-leather seat and joined him on the hood. I could feel the heat through the blanket, but it wasn't unbearable. I sat next to him with my knees drawn up, my elbows resting on them as I tried to look casual. "What are we doing?" I looked at the food between us. A lot of fruit - including strawberries - some toast and cheese and a lukewarm bottle of alcohol free root beer.

"Lunch," he simply declared. He put a piece of aged cheese on a slice of toast and held it out to me like a peace-offering.

I accepted, though questioned: "Why are we having lunch by a highway in the middle of nowhere?"

"I thought it would be nice and I figured it would be impractical to do this further along the trip without you noticing." He poured us both a plastic cup of root beer.

The gesture came from a good heart but was not received in the kind way in which it was intended. I looked at the toast in my hand, not at all hungry. I didn't want to cause yet another argument but after spending such a long time trying to find the smile I lost as a young child, I could not bring myself to make the expression insincere by faking it. I couldn't do it, it didn't seem right, it didn't seem fair. "Why are we doing this?" I wondered aloud, deliberately not seeking eye-contact.

"Well, you're hungry, aren't you?" His own stomach growled as if on cue, drawing a sheepish chuckle out of him.

Not particularly, I thought. "No, why are we doing this?" This time I made sure to emphasize 'we'. "Why did you invite me along?" I finally looked at him, only able to because I knew my eyes were invisible behind my dark glasses, protecting me from exposing something raw and vulnerable within me that lay curled and beaten on the floor of my heart.

Duo sighed, looking away as his fashionable eyewear did not offer him the same kind of privacy and protection. "I need you with me, Heero," he started, pensively looking into the distance with a deep frown over his far-away eyes. "You are part of this. I know you didn't ask to be, but you are. If I'm having a child, then so are you. We are inextricably woven together. At the end of this trip, you'll be a father too."

"But that isn't really true, is it?" I challenged.

He looked at me, taking off his sunglasses, fully exposing his honest and heartfelt gaze to me. "It is the truth, it is real, Heero. Genetics don't matter, remember?" He looked at me poignantly, causing me to look away. The glasses may protect me from damaging UV rays, but not from the flashing memories of pain he inadvertently evoked. "We are going to be one family. Dysfunctional, but happy." He tried with an askew smile.

"How would that even work?" I wondered, biting my lips as I heard the faint quiver in my voice.

"I don't know yet," he answered honestly after giving my question thought. "But we will figure it out."

I liked how he said 'we', but I didn't dare to hope.

"Please Heero." His eyes glistened but that may well have been because the bright sunlight was irritating his eyes. "I can't do this without your support. And I won't. I need you with me. I want you with me."

All the right words, but, to my disappointment, they did not evoke the right feelings.

I wished I could tell him to get behind the wheel and turn this car around and take us back home. I thought about it, but I knew I couldn't. I was too afraid he didn't mean what he had said and that he would go on, with or without me. However, what I feared even more, was that he did mean what he said and that he would abort this trip for my benefit and I would forever feel the guilt of taking this away from him. As painful as this was for both us, deep within there was happiness as well, the happiness that a birth, a child, inevitably bestowed on everyone involved. Even I felt a fringe of happiness at the corners of my pain, guilt and hate; that feeling - which I barely acknowledged to myself, never to him - that I was happy for him, happy that he had been given the opportunity to be a father and to experience that joy. In spite of everything, I wholeheartedly believed he deserved it and I had the utmost faith that he would be a wonderful father. All of this was still heavily overshadowed by my negativity, but it was there, that I could not deny.

And it is why I said: "We'll do this together." I was prepared to hold myself to that, I wasn't sure to what extent he was. I knew he loved me, that I did not doubt, but would he love me enough to neglect this escape into a better version of his life and come back with me to within the walls that had listened to the fall of our tears and the sound of our arguments so often?

My words seemed to relieve him: he let out a deep breath he had been holding and the corners of his mouth turned into a slight smile. "Good. I want you to be part of this."

I nodded. I moved my arms from on top of my knees to between my legs, to hide the fact that my hands were shaking.

"Eat something," he urged.

I steeled my nerves and reach out to grab a piece of mango and ate it in small bites. My stomach was upset, churning and knotted up. The fruit, though it tasted sweet, felt like a clay brick in my gut. Only because I knew I needed the nutrition, did I force myself to eat as much as I could - some more slices of fruit and two or three pieces of toast. I purposefully avoided the strawberries; I didn't want to create a negative association with the fruit by eating it in my current state. I wanted to hold on to the positive memories that now accompanied the sweet smell and the taste. Memories might be all that I would be left with in the end, why taint them and make the sweetness bitter?

The lunch lasted only briefly. Duo, it seemed, wasn't all that in the mood for food either and he, too, left the strawberries for what they were, I think because he was as aware of the memories as I was.

He had said all the right words and I still didn't feel right. This worried me. Was there ever going to be anything he could say or do to erase the damage he had done? To make us feel like we were "us" again, like we belonged?

I never would have figured matters like these would be of my concern, but he changed me. I was once a scared little boy. Then I became cold, I became the perfect soldier. Duo stopped me from taking the next step in my downward spiral. He changed me, he helped me up. Now, I couldn't help but feel like he had carried me to the top of the stairs, only to push me down. Not to say that I believed he did it on purpose. It just made me wonder what the worth of it all had been in the end and if I may have been better off distanced from my emotions. I may have never felt happiness in that state, but it also protected me from hurt.

I helped him pack everything back up, to speed up the process and then we got back into the car and continued on our journey. In silence. We both had a lot to think about.

I wasn't sure what Duo's expectations had been regarding the picnic, or the entire trip, but I got the distinct feeling I was not living up to them. Over the years, Duo had just gotten too used to melting my heart and making me smile with even the simplest of actions. He could wink at me and have my knees turning weak. He could have his hand on the small of my back and have me lean into him. He could kiss me and have me wrap my legs around his hips, my arms around his neck and let him carry me to our bed - or the couch, or the kitchen counter, or the bench all the way in the back of the yard.

To be honest, I had expected things to go like that too. Certainly not as simply as a single touch or a teasing look; but I never thought that six months later I would still feel like this, longing for his touch, but always ending up disappointed. There had been many grand gestures on his behalf since, in an attempt to right his wrong, yet, it appeared, not the grand gesture my heart was holding out on.

By now we must have both been left wondering what else he could do to win back my trust - not my heart, mind you, that was his to keep. I couldn't take that back even if I wanted to, because cradled in his hands it beat and it felt; in my chest it was utterly useless and still.

We had been driving three hours when we spotted signs along the road that directed us to the Museum of Modern Warfare, an odd choice of entertainment. The parking lot was practically empty; apparently more people figured there are better ways to spend a sunny day than looking at machines of destruction.

Duo paid the double entry fee and was given a map and a set of information folders. Once we had left the lady behind the ticket desk out of earshot, Duo held up one of the folders with a grin.

MOBILE SUIT EXPO.

I didn't know why, but it was the first exhibition hall Duo led us to.

The large space was divided into sections with temporary walls and visitors were directed along the mechanical parts that increased in size as the path went further into the hall. Near the back of the hall, where the ceiling angled even further up, I already caught glimpses of larger equipment in a familiar, distasteful shade of green.

The parts all looked familiar. I could identify them effortlessly, so could Duo, yet he made a point to study the more interesting pieces. Only later did I discover that he was looking for errors and he seemed victorious every time he found one.

He talked as we slowly walked by the exhibits: "They had to transport all this in tiny parts, more cost effective that way. Museum staff was responsible for putting things together. Quatre told me the exhibit on L4 was also humorously erroneous."

"Why are we visiting this now?" I questioned.

"It's along the route," he answered matter-of-factly as he bent over to inspect the internal communication unit taken from an automated Taurus.

"Well, it has obviously been a while since Quatre told you this. If you had really wanted to see this, wouldn't we have gone a long time ago?" I questioned, looking at him intently to gauge his response.

He straightened up but didn't meet my gaze.

"Is it just a ploy to take me down memory lane?" I challenged, beginning to realize that if it was, this sure as hell wasn't the 'grand gesture' either.

He looked at me with narrowed eyes. "You make it sound like I was trying to manipulate you."

I shrugged. Wasn't he?

He sighed and looked away, agitated. "I just thought it would be a good way to reconnect. I thought it might be fun to have something else on our minds for once."

"Something other than what, huh?" I asked, even though I obviously knew the answer. "That you snore when you have had too much to drink? That you finish a drink and then put the empty bottle back in the fridge? That you always pester me for a dog?" My voice echoed through the hall. A couple further up ahead quickened their pace to leave the tense atmosphere behind them, leaving us alone. "Certainly you don't think that a trip to a museum is going to take my mind off the fact that my husband is having a baby with his ex?" I finished demandingly.

He looked miserable.

I kept glaring at him, not sympathetic to his apparent heartache. I was stunned and displeased when I felt a tear escape my eye and roll down my cheek. "Shit," I hissed. I brought a hand up and furiously wiped the tear away, but when I was reminded that this was only the first day of a nine day trip, the tears kept coming. They weren't necessarily sad; I think they were mostly shed out of frustration and utter helplessness.

I pivoted on my heels and walked back to the restrooms we had passed.

I didn't want Duo to follow me in there. I felt embarrassed and I wanted to be alone, regain my composure and once I had, walk back out there like nothing had happened. Yet I was disappointed when, after a few minutes, I realized he really wasn't going to follow me into the restrooms. It was so irrational, but I felt it nevertheless.

I was grateful there was no one else there, because the tears came even more freely then. I washed my face with cold water and then dried it with paper towels, erasing the trace of the tears.

There was a soft knock on the door, followed by: "Heero? Can I come in?"

I shaped my features into something indifferent and replied: "Whatever, it's a public restroom."

He slowly opened the door, slipped inside the white, clean space of the restrooms and then closed the door behind him, leaning back against it.

I didn't look at him. I didn't trust my eyes yet, they always more easily betrayed my inner conflict than the rest of my features did.

"You clean everything up after me and put stuff away in places where I can't find them without your constant help." He started calmly. "You get petty whenever I beat you at something, even something stupid, like a game, or cooking, or gardening. You won't even let me have a goldfish."

I snapped my head to look at him finally. "So what?" I spat. "We are even now?"

"No," he shook his head and looked down with a sad smile, "what I mean is that those are the things about you that annoy me the most, before any of this big shit happened. And you used to only be annoyed by my snoring, my messiness and my begging for a pet. If those were the only things wrong in our marriage, than it was pretty perfect, and we were pretty blessed."

"Yes, 'was' and 'were'," I pointed out bitterly. "Things have changed now."

"I have faith that we can still get back to that place. That place of having the freedom to be annoyed by the little things," he said lovingly and patiently even though I was still glaring daggers at him.

I snorted and leaned heavily against the sink. "A lot has happened since." I clenched my hands into white-knuckled fists.

He nodded and I saw him reach up a hand to swipe a finger along his lower lash line. "Yes," he agreed, but then stated: "A lot has happened before that too and we managed to fight our way through that."

"That was different..." I breathed.

"We are stronger now. Because of it." He pushed away from the door and approached me.

I had no fight left in me, the memories that hit me disarmed me, stripped me down to my most vulnerable state and I was suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to have his arms around me. I felt him standing close by me. I looked at our reflection in the mirror; he didn't meet my gaze, he just looked at me, the real me, not my reflection.

He softly kissed my temple and when he pulled back I was ashamed to admit I leaned my head to the left, following him. Encouraged, he closed the distance between our bodies and embraced me warmly, his lips against the outer corner of my eyebrow, occasionally placing a kiss.

A long time passed, but neither one of us cared. Duo held me and I let him, I could never refuse an embrace of his. Somehow the strength of his arms around my waste still tricked me into a feeling of safety and security, even though the ground beneath my feet was shaking and crumbling.

I opened my eyes and glared at my own reflection, displeased with the redness around my eyes and the weakness within them.

"We will make you hard inside," a memory of J said, towering over a short young boy that used to be me. "We will make you hard as stone and cold like it too. It is the only way to protect you and keep you strong to complete your mission. Nothing can ever get inside here." He placed his one, large hand over the boy's small chest, above his beating heart that thumped quickly with fear. "Because in the end it will destroy you."

The old asshole was right.

"Let's go eat. You must be starving." Duo petted my hair once or twice and turned his worried eyes to my face.

I nodded. "Give me one more moment, okay?"

He didn't say anything for a while, just looking at me, searching my intentions and thoughts through the wide open windows that were my eyes. "Okay," he agreed softly and then he excused himself, closing the door behind him.

I stared at my face in the mirror in contempt. I hated that no matter how painfully my heart ached, I could not bring myself to regret letting him in. I could have spared myself a lot of pain, but I would have cost myself even more happiness. I hated that those two always seemed to go together! There was no one without the other and it was so unfair! Every time you get something, it gets taken away, to show you just how much you love it and how much you will miss it. It is cruel and it made me angry. Explosively angry. Why, for once, couldn't I just get peace and quiet? Why was there no end to the punishment?

I yelled and with large steps I turned around and walked up to the doors of the stalls. I balled my fist tightly and rammed it into the firm doorpost. The doors trembled with the force. I hit it again, with the same effect. And again! And again! At the fifth impact something splintered; the solid doorpost. I retreated my hand, bitten, and stared at my bloodied fist breathlessly. A large splinter protruded from between the third and the fourth knuckle.

"Fuck." I walked back to the sinks to wash my hands clean and watched the red, circling around in the water before disappearing down the drain. Then I pinched my thumb and forefinger around the end of the thick splinter and carefully pulled it out to avoid smaller splinters from breaking off and staying buried in the tissue. I threw the toothpick-sized splinter in the trash, the bottom inch of it red, and washed my hand once more before pressing a single paper towel against it to absorb the blood that still flowed from the small wound that stung but was overshadowed by all other pain.

Duo had known better than to come inside and check on me. He knew I could get volatile at times, a small remaining attribute of the hostile character I used to be. He had his own tempers, so he understood.

My hands trembled. I hadn't lost control over myself like that in a long time. I had been a veritable poster-boy of the reformed soldier for the past few years, as I should, it had taken me long enough to get there. Now it appeared the foundation of my hard work was crumbling. I had so deeply desired to be gracious in the face of all this and I had been managing alright so far. I started to realize that I did not - yet? - have the strength to stand in these winds of change and keep my footing. I was slipping, being pushed into something worse than who I used to be.

Once the bleeding had stopped I got rid of the soiled, crimson paper towel and emerged from the bathroom. Duo shifted, leaned his shoulder against the wall casually and crossed his arms in front of his chest, pretending he had not been paying attention to the wrath I had momentarily succumbed to. He didn't make any observation; he just asked if I was ready to go eat.

I still felt like I couldn't possibly eat anything, my throat was constricted, but my body knew better and my stomach growled in response to his inquiry.

He dared a sheepish laugh. With his hand on my shoulder he guided me to the museum restaurant, where it was quiet, only a handful of tables were occupied and most of the staff was lounging around. Obviously modern warfare wasn't very popular among post-war museum-goers.

Duo decided on a corner table by a large window. It looked out over the parking lot, but beyond was the city with its glass towers that shone like a single piece of architectural art, and in the distance was the expanse of the desolate desert we had come from, with the highway cutting through it. I looked at the scenery intently as I did not wish to make eye-contact with him, even though from the corner of my eye I could tell he was studying me. I finally turned my head to look at him when I caught his gaze darting down to my hand that rested on the white tablecloth, the small wound from my previous outburst clearly visible. I pulled my hand into my lap, tendering to the throbbing I still felt and hoping it would be out of sight, out of mind.

A waiter came to bring us menus; he seemed perplexed at the quiet between us and made vain attempts to start up conversation and boost his tip by asking us about the museum's exhibits.

Duo expertly made meaningless small-talk with him as I studied the menu. The dishes were unimaginative, but fine. I chose something simple and light and Duo just said: "I'll have the same."

Alone again, the silence returned relentlessly, but this time, it seemed Duo was determined to break it.

"Give me your hand."

I gave him my left hand and watched his big hands envelop it briefly. The warmth went straight up my arm to my heart where I felt it erupt into something that used to be wonderful, but now had an aching pain to it. He kissed my hand and then looked at me, kindly, and spoke: "You know I meant your other hand."

With a surrendering sigh I brought it up from my lap where I had had it cradled in my napkin.

He took my hand gently and inspected the wound. "We should probably clean it." He stated. He did not release my hand even though he was clearly done with his inspection. His thumb idly circled lightly on my skin. "I brought a medical kit. We can take care of it when we get to a hotel."

Just then, the waiter returned with our plates and he caught sight of the red, torn skin between my knuckles, still raw and fresh.

"Oh my God, are you alright? Can I get you something?"

I pulled my hand away and could only glare at him.

"It's fine," Duo said and then thanked him for the food, making a point to comment politely on how delicious it smelled.

The waiter left as abruptly as he came.

We ate quietly; we had nothing to say to each other. I was thinking of my own troubles as Duo thought of his. Even though I blamed him for the situation we were in now, I couldn't help but be sympathetic to him. He had made it very clear how sorry he was and a brave voice in the back of my head dared to suggest he wasn't the only one of the two of us to blame, certainly not the only one of "the three of us".

My life had become such a rollercoaster ride of emotions. The plains of apathy abruptly dipped and rose with sadness, anger, guilt and despair. And then all of a sudden the ride stopped and for a moment I was so dazed - all my negativity straggling behind me somewhere on the looping track - that I found myself back at the station where I long was, so comfortably: just loving him.

But sooner or later everything caught up with me again and the ride started anew.

After dinner we left the museum without paying more attention to the gathered artifacts. I wasn't very interested and had grown tired physically of my own, overwhelming emotions, and Duo must have figured the benefit of spending a couple more of the evening hours driving that little bit closer to our ultimate destination. Before we left he put the roof up as the air was chilling. This was accompanied by many colorful curses as the distortion of the windshield made the roof difficult to close. Once all the muttering and cursing was over we got back into the car. Duo still did not open the door but rather climbed through the open window, making it clear to me that there was some defect in the door that permanently sealed it.

I didn't comment on it, I just made myself comfortable in the passenger seat. With the previous night having been sleepless and my heart overworked with the stress of the day, it was inevitable that I would eventually fall asleep. I remember watching the sun set, but I don't remember ever seeing the moon or the stars; blackness overcame me.

It was the sound of Duo's voice and the warmth of his hand firmly planted on my shoulder that awoke me. I blinked my eyes open to a dark world. Pale blue moonlight revealed the silhouette of dozens of cars parked neatly all around us. Duo crouched by the passenger door, his arms reaching in through the open window. His eyes were patient and soft, with something heartbroken beneath the surface.

"Hey sleepy," he whispered and his coarse palm cupped my face. I felt his thumb swipe across my cheekbone, wiping something away; I think the trail of tears spilt in my restless sleep. "We're at the hotel."

I willed my body into motion and climbed out of the car. I looked over my shoulder and saw the modestly sized hotel to a backdrop of lit up skyscrapers, as it was set in the outskirts of whatever town we had arrived at.

We shared the load of our luggage and went inside where everything was bright and shiny and the ceilings impossibly and impractically high. It was an elegant, no doubt expensive hotel. We could easily afford it, we both enjoyed well paying jobs; however, I feared the romance of the setting was completely lost on us.

The receptionist offered help to carry our bags upstairs. We were quite heavily packed because we couldn't risk leaving anything in the trunk of the car overnight, seeing as the observing eye would notice nothing but an elastic band stood in the way of a bounty. However, we refused this help, the bags weren't heavy and I guess we both weren't in the mood to be accompanied upstairs by a bellboy.

The room Duo had arranged for us was nicely sized. The view was nothing spectacular, just the street four stories down below and the building across from it, but the interior was luscious; soft carpet, satin sheets, velvet throw pillows, heavy, dark purple drapes and glossy gold faucets in the adjoining bathroom. The wallpaper had a subtle baroque motif and the lighting was just a soft glow coming from a classic, silver chandelier. It was quite impressive, very unlike the other hotels we stayed in in the past, when we used to travel around the world in search of ourselves, on the trail of happiness.

In different circumstances I could imagine dropping my bags and lowering myself onto the soft mattress of the queen sized bed, beckoning Duo to come to me. When he would stand in front of me, I would look up at him and while maintaining eye-contact I would unbutton his pants and pull the fabric down his thighs along with his underwear. I would kiss the skin surrounding his groin whilst my hands would roam up under his shirt to explore the defined muscles of his abdomen and chest and I would do this until he was hard and wanton. Once he would start begging me for more I would take his erection into my mouth and proceed to drive him insane, albeit far less subtly. Just when he would be close to orgasm I would suddenly stop and crawl back on the bed, my legs spread, my eyes peering into his, inviting him.

And I would be lost in rapture as he would make love to me just perfectly. Without any words there was always an understanding of how I wanted it: hard, gentle, slow, fast, loving or aggressive. He always "simply knew" and would overwhelm me with the intimacy of his knowledge to which I could only gratefully surrender.

I loved making love with him. It was the only time that my body felt right, felt like my own and at the same time felt like it was completely his. The way he knew what patch of skin to ghost his fingers across, where to squeeze me, when to rub my nipples and when to worry my earlobe between his teeth. In return, I knew exactly where to caress him, when to raise my head and capture his lips in a kiss, how to moan in a way that made his erection harden even more and how hard I can pull on his hair - that delicate line between pain and a pleasurable sensation.

But we didn't do any of that in that beautiful, romantic hotel.

I dropped my bags and lay, face down, on the bed, exhausted by my own thoughts and the way my heart beat so irregularly. Duo excused himself to make a phone call; I heard him leave the room and through the door I could hear his muffled words as he talked into his cell phone in hallway. It was no mystery who he was calling. He would be calling Hilde every day to inform her of our progress and ask her how she was doing. I didn't know why he bothered having these conversations with a door between us; I knew exactly what he would be saying and how he would be sounding. Everything had been the same for a while now.

I wished I was as apt at deducing what Hilde would be saying at the other end of the line. I wondered what her reaction had been when Duo had told her I would be coming too. I imagine she would not have been pleased, she might have even tried to talk Duo out of taking me along. Of course that is what I thought, that was easiest for me to think. It was easier for me to see her as "the bad guy" in all of this, the one I had the right to hate. Because God knows I couldn't keep that up with Duo. I loved him too much. This was sometimes frightening, to think of all the things I would let him do to me, just because I loved him so damn much. I really didn't think there was anything he could do to make me stop loving him. This didn't use to frighten me, because I trusted Duo with this responsibility, I thought I knew for sure he would never abuse that. Obviously I had been given plenty of grounds to question this certainty.

Duo came back into the room and I turned my head to watch him as he sat down in a random chair in the corner by the bathroom door and started taking off his shoes. He looked pale.

I finally decided to ask the question I had been too fragile to ask before. "How is Hilde doing?"

His surprise was unbridled and stunned him into momentary silence. He searched my face for malice but all I could express was exhaustion. "She is fine,"he started cautiously, gauging whether or not I truly cared to know. "She's nervous about being induced. She is afraid something might go wrong." He squeezed his eyes shut.

I suddenly felt sick. I turned my head to the other side and closed my eyes and focused on my breathing, to stop myself from throwing up. "I'm sure she'll be fine," I tried, my voice shaky. "She's made it this far..." I added in a pathetic whisper.

"Yeah." His voice was coarse with emotion.

When I felt like I had my emotions under control and my face molded into something impassive, I sat up and started undressing. Normally I would have crawled under the sheets in just my briefs, but considering the romantic setting, I was careful not to give the wrong impression, so I made the extra effort to put on a pair of sweatpants and a loose T-shirt before heading to bed.

With my back turned towards him, I listened to the rustling of clothes as Duo changed as well. I got goose bumps thinking of the way the fabric of his clothes would glide over his skin and how I wanted to kiss every piece of skin that was exposed.

But I couldn't.

We hadn't made love in a very long time. At least not since Hilde called six months ago, but even before that, the feeling that would lead up to it had mostly been... absent.

It was getting to me. To him too. My bodily desires were trying to trick my heart and mind into something that those organs were uncomfortable with. It was hard, but each time I longed for his touch, I had to remind myself that I longed for his touch from before, missed the way that felt. It wouldn't be the same now, after.

Suddenly, he kneeled down before me, beside the bed. I noticed the small medical kit he had in his hands. Without words I offered him my right hand and he cleaned the small wound and pressed a flexible band aid over it. I studied his fingers as he worked.

"There," he said when he finished, but he held my hand for a little while longer, our fingers entwined.

Kiss me, I thought, instantly berating myself for my weakness. "Goodnight," is what I said.

Before he came to bed he switched off all the lights except for the small lamp on the nightstand on his side of the bed. The mattress dipped as he climbed into bed and I heard the beeping of his phone as he likely set the alarm. He asked me if I was okay with getting up at seven thirty, I made no objections. He flicked off the final light and settled in the bed. It seemed like he was miles removed from me, even though I could touch him with a simple reach of my arm.

Things had seemed so much easier yesterday. I guessed because then I could still fool myself into thinking that none of this was actually happening. Then all of a sudden here I was, away from home, en route to something that could mean the end of us. I wished I could go back to pretending.

There had been a change in Duo as well. I think he, too, quickly realized that this journey was going to be harder on the two of us than he imagined. It had taken only a single day for his optimistic confidence and careful enthusiasm of the day before to wither away and the prospect of all positivity being left behind as this trip continued was insufferable.

"Each night a different hotel where we can make love," I still heard him say. And yet here we lay, about as far away from each other as the bed would allow. I couldn't put my feelings into words. I was confused because I wasn't sure if I was ready to make love with him again, I supposed I had just expected him to help me find out. Maybe I was even disappointed that he didn't try harder.

Immature concerns started to get the better of me. Perhaps he was losing interest in me sexually, now that I had left him hanging for so long. The last time I pushed him away like this, he found solace in Hilde. I didn't want to make that same mistake again and thrust him further in Hilde's arms.

Fuelled mostly by jealousy and the fear of losing him, I rolled over to his side of the bed, noticing his breath hitch as I lay on my side against him. He was lying on his back, immobile, uncertain, but in the dark I could see him licking his lips and staring into the dark pools of my eyes waiting for me to take further initiative.

I was nervous, even more so than the very first time I had been on the brink of kissing him. I guessed, in a very real way, it was much like that first time. A lot of uncertainties, a lot of past pain, a lot of ghosts that you couldn't trust to keep their distance. But at the same time, that anticipation, that hope that when lips meet, everything will cease to be of importance except for our lips melting together and our fingers mapping each other's skin. At the same time, I recognized how strange it was, after all, he had kissed me many times since, trying to rekindle something and I had enjoyed those kisses for what they were: signs of hope. But this time I didn't want hope, I wanted a promise; the promise that he still wanted me the way I wanted him and that just like his night with Hilde and its consequences couldn't stop me from loving him, it also couldn't stop him from loving me.

So with the weight of the world - our relationship was my world - on my shoulders, I leaned down, hesitating only briefly at the last moment before softly pressing my lips to his.

It was the first time I had kissed him, instead of vice versa, since Hilde... happened. It clearly elated him, his lips moved, kissing me back, gently at first but the urgency quickly increased. Soon his hand wrapped around the back of my neck, pressing our mouths together more firmly and he tentatively brought his tongue out, meeting mine. It was an awkward meeting at first, laden with both our thoughts, feelings and expectations that we had previously fought to ignore. Of course it wasn't long until we remembered how to kiss each other exactly the way we knew how the other liked it. Duo was aggressive and demanding and I was receptive but feistily fighting back.

Our breaths came strongly through our nose but oxygen, at that point, was a secondary need.

A quick exploration of my right hand down his chest and abdomen revealed that he was already hard. This didn't surprise me, he had always been exceptionally eager and it had been an extremely long time. Still, I didn't find myself in the same bodily state, I was only half erect and even though I gyrated my hips against the side of his body, it took all my focus not to stray from the sensations of his lips on mine and the friction through my pants and go to a place where I knew I would lose all excitement.

However, I forced myself to continue. I was no stranger to the power and importance of sex in a relationship and I knew the risk of omittance. Romance withers away until you are left with a friendship that isn't worth the effort you have to put into it to make it work. I was acutely aware of the fact that I might have to use my body like that to remind him that we were still us, that there was still this chemistry between us that was worth fighting for, that was worth staying with me for. I wouldn't be able to give him babies, make him a real family - the jealousy of that simple thought, with Hilde nine months pregnant in D.C was an insanity that blistered my brain - but I could give him my body, caress him in all the right places, kiss him at the right time, moan in that way that makes his dick even harder and tug on his hair just hard enough.

I refused to believe Hilde could give him those things, those things were mine to give; if she could, Duo wouldn't even be with me in the first place. He chose me. He did. I had to hold on to that, stop it from slipping through my fingers.

Duo rolled on his side, facing me, pressing our hips together, pressing his hard length against me. From his harsh pants that blew hot air along my cheek and the shell of my ear, I could tell how much he wanted this. What "this" exactly was, I wasn't sure, neither was he, I presumed, but we seemed to be moving in the right direction.

He paid attention to my nipples through the cotton fabric of my shirt, his hands needy and unfocused, but they did the trick regardless, teasing the hardened nubs. One hand slipped underneath my shirt and caressed up my body to pinch one of them between his thumb and forefinger. Normally, these touches would get me painfully hard, something that always embarrassed me, but amused and pleased Duo. This time, there was no magic. I just couldn't get beyond that pathetic, half-erect point.

Either Duo didn't notice or he was just determined to make this work, as he ceased his attack on my nipples and moved that one hand that had been under my shirt down till his fingers reached the hem of my sweatpants and the tips of his digits slowly pushed inside, giving me ample time to refuse should I want to.

At that point, I didn't know what I wanted. I was waiting for the spark that used to happen whenever he would touch me. So I let him, hoping it would happen.

He pushed his entire hand through the elastic band of the sweatpants and his fingers ran through the dark curls before firmly wrapping around my penis. Surely now he noticed my body wasn't on schedule... He tried to amend the situation with several strong jerks, moving his tight fist up and down my length repetitively. Needless to say this action didn't use to leave any margin of error. This time though, it wasn't working.

My thoughts were badgering me. All I could think about was Hilde and Duo on top of her, in her bed. The image wouldn't leave me be, it pestered me. I started to wonder whether it had been better for him with Hilde - something I hadn't even begun to think about previously, too caught up in all the baby-drama. I wondered if he liked sex with her - or girls in general - better. He seemed eager enough to be intimate with me, yet I could not get the question out of my mind: would he rather be in bed with Hilde right now? She was so beautiful and delicate and pure, whereas I felt like a coarse brute in comparison, like used goods.

Why did he ever choose me over her? How could he not regret that decision now, after all the heartache this relationship had put him through?

And so the final shred of confidence that I had latched on to, disappeared and I suddenly felt disgusting for ever having thought that I had anything to offer that would be better than Hilde.

My body started to shake with suppressed sobs and I broke our kiss, which had become distracted, with a breathless: "I'm sorry."

With his hand still vainly enveloping me, he asked from the darkness, his voice thick: "Do you want me to stop?"

"I'm sorry," I just repeated pathetically. "I'm sorry." I struggled for air when his hands abandoned me, but I tried to hide it.

I couldn't do it, not with all the wrong feelings knotting up my stomach. Sex was easier before - before Duo - more physical, barely emotional, if any at all. When Duo introduced me to this new kind of sex, lovemaking, I had been thrilled; it had felt so much better than anything else I had ever experienced. But this did not come cheap, sex became complicated.

That hadn't been a problem before. We had always been in this perfect place, with the right kind of feelings and thoughts from which the lovemaking naturally blossomed. It appeared, to my dismay, that there was no turning back; there was no extracting the complications of the act. I could no longer let go, shut off and just let my body do what it knew by instinct. A throbbing heart ran interference.

Duo cupped my face and I felt him close to me, his breath warm as he assured me "it's fine" even though he, too, must know that it was not fine, nothing was fine, hadn't been for a while and I predicted it may never be fine again.

My breath came in short pants, I felt like I was on the verge of a panic attack. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly and tried to think of calming things, but of course calming things were the last on my mind, I was assaulted by a chaotic collection of all the bad memories I had gathered over a lifetime. All the bad memories that I had once claimed I had overcome, that I had beaten. They were on a winning streak again after I had suffered a crippling blow from an unexpected opponent.

Duo.

Before I would completely lose myself in a state of raw emotion, I knew I had to separate myself from him and regain control over myself. I pushed his hands away and hurried out of the bed.

"Where are you going?" he asked, worried.

"I need some air." And with that, barefoot, dressed in my nightwear, hoisting my pants back up, I stepped out of the room, into the brightly lit hallway. I berated myself for being so weak and emotional as I started down the hallway, following the EMERGENCY EXIT signs. I burst through the emergency door at the end of the hallway and gasped when cool night air chilled my skin and momentarily frosted up my airways. The wind blew roughly against me as it traveled around the building and through the streets, looking for something to get a grip on. It tugged on the loose fabric of my pants and shirt, like fingers urging me to go somewhere.

I sat down on the top step of the fire-escape. Goose bumps riddled my skin but my face still felt hot. I managed to take back the control over my body, leveling out my breathing and wiping all emotional contortions off my features to leave me with a blank face that I have just always felt more comfortable with. I hoped Duo wouldn't follow me; I knew that if he would, my fragile control would shatter again and I didn't like being like that in front of him - in front of anybody. It was fine when it was fine, when we were fine, when our relationship was fine. I didn't mind sharing smiles and laughter with him, even though the first few years I had to force myself. That wasn't the kind of exposure I had always feared, these emotional outbursts are exactly the things that J tried to prevent. I now realized why, they were obstructive and crippling.

The old fool made a good argument from the dead. If there was an afterlife, which I greatly doubted, I would presume him to be snickering in that hideous way of his and saying: "I told you so, boy."

For some reason, my eyes were drawn beyond where they had been staring at my hands in my lap and they settled on our "classic" car, parked at the center of the parking lot. The faded, mint green paint reflected the pale moonlight peculiarly.

If I was going to make it through this trip with my sanity more or less intact, I knew I had to change my attitude. The way I had been was too exhausting and it would only drive Duo further away from me, which was the opposite of why I had agreed to accompany him on this journey. I didn't know to what extent I could still hide my feelings when making a good effort to do so, but I had to try. I could apparently not sleep with Duo, but certainly I hadn't completely lost my ability to distance myself from my emotions and keep my reactions in check. I knew the Perfect Soldier was still somewhere inside me, he was strong, I had learned this the hard way, when I started fighting him ten years ago.

I didn't want to be this emotional wreck anymore, it was humiliating and counterproductive.

I didn't want to be at war with myself anymore, I wanted peace.

Most importantly: I wanted Duo to still want to come home with me at the end of all of this.


	3. Chapter Three

**Loneliest Road**

**Chapter Three**

_\- Crossroads are questions along our journey; "Where do you really want to go?" -_

It was early in the morning, the sunrise was just a suggestion of warm orange rays at the horizon, yet my side of the bed was already cold, abandoned. I had pulled one of the chairs to the window and nestled myself in it, my knees drawn up to my chest. I stared outside, my eyes narrowing as the light got brighter. Duo was sleeping peacefully in the bed. Peacefully. It struck me like a painful insult, but I balled my fist around that feeling and I hid it as deep within me as I could, locking it away behind barriers that would dull the sharp pain to a mere distant throb.

I listened to his breathing, occasionally enhanced by a soft snore. I wouldn't be able to stand the silence. I wouldn't be able to stand the absence of his breathing, even his snoring, though that could get quite annoying if he had a bit to drink. The memory of many sleepless nights in the wake of the final war conflict still haunted me, like an ever-present threat. It was then that I learned about the feeling of missing somebody. It was the first time I ever experienced a sense of 'missing'. During the days I was incredibly annoyed by the notion. During the nights I was only distraught. A panic would overcome me. Panic that the feeling would never go away, that the braided pilot had left scars somewhere deep beneath the skin, scars that would always bleed.

The frightening thing is, I was right. The only stitch to close that wound was to seek the presence of the one you missed.

"Heero?" a tired, hoarse voice asked.

I turned my head and saw Duo touching the empty space of the mattress that I had only briefly occupied that night. With squinting eyes he scanned the room, but I knew him to be practically blind in the early morning.

"I'm here," I announced with a flat voice.

His sleepy eyes settled on me and that sad smile that he often offered me made another appearance. "Good morning. What are you doing up so early?" With slow movements he extracted himself from the sheets and got up on his feet.

It seemed redundant to point out that I had trouble sleeping, so I didn't say anything.

He came to stand behind me and placed his large hands on my shoulders, massaging them gently, but there was nothing he could do to ease away the tension in my body. "I'm sorry," he whispered genuinely in my ear and then he kissed the shell.

After hearing it so often, it meant very little to me. But as a soldier, you don't expect apologies, nor should you need them and a soldier is what I had to be, in order to survive this battle. "Room service will be here shortly with breakfast."

"It's not even six o'clock," he pointed out weakly.

"I figured you would want to get an early start. If you still wanted to make that detour to Vegas."

Duo pulled one of the other chairs across the room towards the window and sat down across from me, his bare feet propped up on the window sill. He reached back for his disheveled braid and released the elastic band and started to unbraid it in preparation of his morning shower. "If we do Vegas, we would probably have to cut some other activities from the trip. It's a pretty significant detour. Salt Lake City and Reno lie much closer to the route. What do you think?"

"I don't care."

He stared at me, caught off guard by my monotonous tone of voice. Finally, he concluded: "Let's just stick to the route then."

Of course, I thought, he doesn't want to risk being late. Even though he has always bugged me about making a trip to Las Vegas sometime.

A soft knock on the door announced the arrival of breakfast and at my lack of response, Duo jumped into action. He made friendly small talk with the hotel employee that rolled in a cart with a selection of miniature bread, spreads, yogurts and fresh fruit and casually slipped him a tip.

"Wow, look at this, this is great!" Duo exclaimed as he scrutinized the food. Food was very important to Duo, after having to steal for it or go without it for long periods of time during his tumultuous childhood spent on the streets of L2, he told me he would never let himself go hungry again or force himself to eat something he didn't like. The results were fine foods at every meal and a kitchen stocked to the brim. We also eventually converted one of the spare bedrooms to a home gym. It was the only sensible way to counterbalance Duo's sweet-teeth. The result was pleasing. Duo was a high energy kind of person who made time every day to work out. In spite of all the food and wine, he was in amazing shape. Combined with a growth spurt after the Mariemeia incident, which shot him into the air to a height of over six feet, he had a very impressive physique. Making his braid more of an ironic statement than it ever was.

I snapped my head, turning my neck away as I caught myself staring. Be the soldier, I reminded myself. The soldier never lovingly stared at Duo.

"Heero, come have some breakfast."

I got up and joined him at the cart, fixing myself a bowl of yogurt with a variety of fruit.

"Tu veux un petit croissant?"

"Your French is still horrific," I stated, retreating back to my chair by the window with my bowl of breakfast.

"Heero?"

I didn't look at him until I was comfortably settled in my seat, the bowl in my lap. He looked forlorn and confused.

"Is something wrong?" he asked with an increasing frown. "You seem... different."

"I'm fine," I lied and brought the spoon up to my lips to preoccupy my mouth.

He left his full plate on the cart and crossed the room. He kneeled down in front of me, placing his hands on my bare legs. The expression with which he looked up at me was heartfelt, but I purposefully shut myself off from it. "Is this about last night?" He softly stroked my upper leg, keeping his concerned gaze on my face. "I told you it's fine. You just need time."

Feelings started to boil and fumes started to cloud my judgment, but I wouldn't let it influence my actions. What I wanted to do was get up and back away from him, pushing the chair out of my way to be able to create distance and I wanted to scream at him. Instead, I remained seated, and I said with my most dry, soldier-like voice: "The last time I just needed time, you went looking for it elsewhere. And you found it with Hilde."

His face became pale and sickly. The cold harshness of my words didn't leave him unaffected. What was truly sickening about it was that my words were the truth. We had had many arguments in which he tried to explain to me that there were many different factors involved, many details left out. I knew that, but it didn't make it less of a truth, it also didn't make my heart ache any less. Quite the opposite, in fact.

He, apparently, didn't want to get into that same argument again. He took a deep breath, released it slowly and then rose to his feet. "I'm going to take a shower," he announced. He walked past the cart, without ever having had his breakfast and disappeared into the bathroom.

I ran my hand over my leg, where his hand had been resting, trying to wipe away the warm yet tingling feeling his touch had left behind. I barely managed to eat half of the yogurt. The act of the soldier was easier to exercise than the heart of the soldier. I realized I had a long way to go back, back to that state where nothing could hurt. After all, it had been a long and hard way in the opposite direction. And this time, I couldn't count on Duo's help, guiding me through the process.

When he got out of the bathroom I took my turn to shower and got dressed with my hair still damp. I was impatient to get out of the ridiculously romantic hotel that gave me a knotted feeling in my gut. I roughly brushed my hair, wincing occasionally when I would pull out a hair or two in my aggression.

"Brush it, don't attack it," Duo would say to me and then duck as I threw the brush at him. From his hiding place, behind the bed, I would hear his rumbling laughter. That was a very long time ago.

I stuffed my belongings back in my bag as Duo also got ready to leave.

Before we left he got a banana from the cart to silence his growling stomach.

He checked us out, being his friendly self to the girl at the reception desk, even succeeding in making her laugh and blush. When he noticed I was looking, he must have felt incredibly guilty, because he finished checking out without so much as looking directly at her again. The only expression she had on her face from that point on was a disappointed and confused frown.

As we made our way through the parking lot, he tried to explain: "I wasn't flirting with her. I was just being nice."

"I don't care," I retorted, sternly focusing my gaze up ahead.

We were back in the car, back on the road. Duo drove us back to the main road. He was silent, his arms stiff and his knuckles white as he had a death grip on the steering wheel.

I listened to the song on the radio. Something up-beat and Latin. It was ridiculously unbefitting of the atmosphere between us.

I frowned and looked at him through my dark sunglasses when the car came to a full stop at a crossroads. I didn't understand why he would stop the car; the only traffic was a harmless tumbleweed blowing across the cracked tarmac.

He took of his sunglasses and looked at me with serious eyes. He seemed to need a moment to gather his thoughts and maintain his composure. Then he asked me: "Which way do we go?"

I frowned and looked back at the crossroads. His question seemed unnecessary, we obviously had to go left, because we came from the right last night and straight ahead would take us far south. "Left," I finally said, with a pronounced "duh"-tone to it as he kept looking at me expectantly.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Duo, I'm pretty sure that if we want to go east, we need to turn left here," I replied dryly.

"But do we want to go east?" he asked cryptically.

"Well, Washington is to the east."

He sighed and shook his head, his bangs dancing across his face. "I'm asking you where we want to go, Heero," he emphasized 'want'. "Or more directly, where you want to go, because I don't want to go anywhere you don't want to go. So tell me, do you really want to go east? Do you really agree with going east?" He paused and looked at me poignantly. "Or do you want to go west and go back home? Whatever you want, I will do. Hell, if you wanna go south and drive all the way down to Mexico, then let's do that."

I wiped my suddenly sweaty palms on my denim clad thighs. I looked away, not even trusting my sunglasses to hide my emotions. "I don't care," I tried disinterestedly.

"Bullshit."

Of course it was, but what did he expect from me? A little less than six months ago, after the initial shock and anger had waned to a level that I could physically stand without feeling lightheaded and nauseous, he had given me a similar choice. Then, too, I gave him the answer that did not feel right, but was, for a fact, right. As he himself recognized, he had a responsibility now, to Hilde and to his - their - unborn child. But to me, far more important than allowing him to live up to that responsibility, was not to take away from him the joy of having a child. I didn't want him to suffer that sense of 'missing' that I knew he would experience, that we had both experienced before. That feeling that we both knew all too well. I didn't wish that on anybody. How would I be able to face my own reflection if I denied him the opportunity to be a father?

I had given the issue plenty of thought. It had been haunting me for six months, I had been second guessing myself every step of the way, but in the end, the decision I made was always the right one, even if it made me feel ill.

I longingly looked to the right, knowing home was far beyond the horizon in that direction. The safety of my own house, the comfort of my own bed, the smell of the wild flowers in the back yard. I knew everything would lose its joy if I made us turn back now. Because home meant nothing if Duo would end up resenting me. And he would. I would actually be disappointed if he didn't, because that would mean he wasn't the person I thought he was.

With a deep breath I faced him. In his eyes I recognized a turmoil similar to my own. "We go left. We go east," I concluded definitively.

A car had come to a stop behind our own and the driver honked impatiently, startling us both.

Duo turned back in his seat and waved for the man to go around us, shouting: "Give us a fucking minute!"

Eventually the man drove his car around us, gesturing wildly and angrily. Then he turned the car and drove west.

I secretly wished I could hitch a ride with the asshole. I tensed momentarily when I felt Duo's warm hand on the back of my neck, the tips of his fingers over a racing pulse. I forced myself to relax. I forced my heart rate to slow down. I either had to be the soldier, or get out of the car, throw up on the shoulder and then walk back home. Considering the soldier was the only option that would keep me with Duo, at least for the time being, it was a quick, but nevertheless, hard decision to make.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Duo released a deep breath and then leaned in to kiss me.

I twisted my head away from him, biting on my lower lip that threatened to quiver.

I felt his breath on my neck as he sighed and then he briefly leaned his forehead on my shoulder and then placed a kiss there, through the cotton fabric of my shirt.

It hurt more than my teeth digging into my lip.

The car rolled back into motion and Duo steered it towards the east.

As the option to go west became more and more distant, I couldn't help but remember a decision I had made a very long time ago and note how similar it was to this one. Back then I had also made the decision based on what I believed to be best for Duo as an individual, but not necessarily for us as a couple and certainly not for me.

I didn't think it at that time, but it turned out to be a misinformed mistake. That explained why my stomach felt so upset as we drove on and on, due east. The landscape didn't offer any substantial distraction and so, inevitably, my thoughts starter to wander. The sights of memory lane flashed by in reverse, rewinding through both joyous and heartbreaking moments.

The images stalled and like a clear dream, I saw myself in a blue paper gown in a hospital bed. The memory is (was) from AC197, mere days after the collapse of Mariemeia's brief regime. Even though there is a history that preceded that moment, I always considered my hospitalization in 196 and the beginning of 197 as the start. The start of my life, not necessarily with Duo, but also without him. I consider it the beginning of my life, the way most people would feel about their date of birth. It took me over sixteen years to be born. It wasn't before that moment that I realized I was a person and that my heart wasn't just a muscle at the center of a complex cardiovascular system, but something that transcends the flesh; the measurable. I realized for the first time that it could feel... and that it could break.

* * *

**Early AC 197**

I started to become aware of my surroundings. First, the sounds managed to filter through my clouded brain. Everything seemed abnormally slow and dull, the sounds were hollow and distant, but they broke into my dreamless sleep, disrupting it gracelessly. I recognized that someone was talking, though for the life of me I understood not a single word, even though it slowly started to register as French, a language I had mastered at a young age. I was annoyed at my failure. The forming frown was the first sign that my body still functioned and still belonged to me. After a few twitches of the muscles surrounding my eyes, I managed to crack them open slightly. My vision, I discovered, was blurred, but I noticed a lot of white, offset only by an infrequent object in a pastel shade and a hideous, bland piece of modern artwork on the wall straight ahead. The scents hit me like smelling salts. I was in a hospital.

I opened) my eyes fully and blinked) repeatedly until my vision cleared. The French becomes (became) understandable, but the sources seemed to distance themselves from me with the squeak of sneakers on linoleum floors. In the absence of their voices, other sounds started to appear. A siren, very far away. A mechanic humming. An obtrusive beeping that matched the rhythm of my heart rate. And breathing that was not my own.

I felt weak and frozen, like the cartilage of my skeleton had solidified like cement and had immobilized all my joints, even my spine. I couldn't turn my head to locate the source of the breathing to my left, so I just searched the room with my eyes.

By my bedside was a shape of black. My eyes focused and I noted the long, black clad legs extended out as the figure sat slouched in the chair; the black shirt under a black sweater, covering the chest that slowly heaved; the braid draped over one shoulder and the honest eyes that peered absentmindedly at a magazine in his lap.

Duo.

The beeping sped up. I forced my heart to slow down, but too late to have the spike go unnoticed.

His eyes shifted to me and then there was the sound of paper hitting the floor as he dropped the magazine whilst straightening up in his chair. Out of sight, his warm hand found my cold one on top of the sheets. He released my hand quickly though, as if he realized that maybe he shouldn't have touched me to begin with. "Hey there, soldier boy."

Not anymore, I thought to myself, the memories of the events of the war conflict flooding me.

"How do you feel?"

I scraped my throat, it was incredibly dry. My voice was soft and small as I only managed to whisper: "I don't know, what does my chart say?"

"Well, if your chart is any reliable indication, you should feel pretty fucked up." He reached for the nightstand and brought a pink cup of water with a long straw in my line of sight. "Drink this."

I glared at him to show my dismay, but accepted the cup regardless, wrapping my lips around the end of the straw and greedily drinking the water until my sore throat stopped aching. It was delicious; cool and soothing. "How long have I been out?" I slowly started rolling my neck, easing away the stiffness.

"Almost two weeks. You sustained a lot of internal injuries. You've been in and out of surgery a couple of times; they figured it was best to just keep you asleep." His voice sounded very concerned and very tired.

"What's the score?" I asked him.

"The broken bone count is relatively minor, all things considered, just a crushed ribcage. But they had to fix an aortic rupture, take out your spleen, reset your hip and do a liver transplant. That was the last surgery they did, they had to wait for the lab to finish growing the liver."

I frowned. "Why would they give a liver to someone who doesn't even officially exist?"

A sad smile formed on his lips. "You have the queen of the world to thank for that party trick. She made sure that the next blood type neutral liver would go to you." He leaned in closer and added in a whisper, close to my ear: "Don't think for even one second that you didn't deserve it."

That was curious, I thought, fighting a frown that threatened to appear. With his words he had made it seem like he knew exactly what I had been thinking, yet he couldn't possibly, I hadn't voiced those thoughts. Had I?

"I got you some clothes, figured you might want to change out of that ridiculous gown. Though, if anyone could rock hospital couture, it's you. God knows you owned those spandex shorts." He winked at me and then reached down and pulled a duffel bag into his lap, taking out several items of clothing and placing them on the bed beside me.

I felt the soft fabric against my lower arm. I moved my tired fingers; they trembled as I strained them. I lightly stroked the soft wool of what I guessed to be a sweater. "I'm too tired," I admitted.

"Oh." He picked up the sweater - indeed a sweater - and looked at me with questioning, cautious eyes. "I could help you if you want."

I hesitated. Even though Duo was likely the only person in the world whose fingers against my skin didn't give me the nails-on-a-chalkboard feeling - his actually made me feel warm and at ease in my own skin- I wasn't too keen on having to rely on him, having him take care of me, take control of me, while I was so weak and so helpless. But the gown really wasn't comfortable and it would be good for my aching muscles and joints to move and flex, so after some consideration, I agreed with a curt nod.

Duo got up and walked over to the door to close it. Then he returned to me and removed the sheets and helped me sit up gently.

My right hip sent jolts of pain up and down my leg and spine. As Duo said, they had to set it. I must have dislocated it when Wing plummeted to the earth after sustaining catastrophic damage. I hadn't expected the damage to my body to be similar in severity; I didn't remember being in much pain when I crawled out of the wreckage and went to confront Mariemeia in my final efforts as the Perfect Soldier.

Quietly, Duo took off the gown, leaving me completely naked. He reached for the pile of clothing and started ripping off price tags. He carefully helped me put on the pair of boxers he had gotten me, encouraging me to wrap my arm around his shoulders, so he could lift my hips off the mattress. It hurt enough to make me hiss. Duo apologized, even though it obviously wasn't his fault, he was being appropriately tender. Next he put a large pair of sweatpants on me, fastening the elastic band more tightly around my waist to keep the pants from sagging.

"I just thought it would be easier this way," he explained his choice for the wide clothing.

"It's a good idea."

He chuckled. "Would be a bitch trying to get those skintight shorts on you in this condition."

"Yeah." My voice came muffled through the sweater as he helped me pull it over my head.

"There you go." He supported my back as I leaned back down in the pillows, to avoid me putting too much stress on my hips.

I reached out and finished pulling the sheets over me, anything to make me feel less useless. I was mesmerized momentarily by the sight of his face when he smiled warmly at me. To distract myself, I asked him: "Where are the others?"

"They're all fine, not hospitalized, if that's what you mean." He sat back down and propped his feet up on the edge of the bed. "Quatre and Trowa stayed a while, but they had to leave to avoid drawing too much attention to us as a group. They're on L4. WuFei said you wouldn't want him hovering over you, no idea what that was about, so he left pretty quickly. I managed to persuade Relena to leave last night. I mean, she had the best intentions and all and she really helped me, but by God did the girl bug the shit out of me." He flashed me a grin.

"Why are you still here?"

His eyes darkened and he sighed deeply. "You really don't know? Where else would I be, Heero, you're my friend."

So he kept telling me.

The year between the war and the Mariemeia conflict, we lived together. I didn't have anywhere to go and Duo approached me with the offer to share an apartment on L2, one he couldn't pay by himself. If I dared to think so - sometimes I did - I believed he asked me to live with him because he wanted me to, not because he needed me to. I didn't fool myself into thinking that that meant anything, he had probably just gotten as used to my presence as I had gotten to his. I figured I had become part of the furniture to him and without me, the apartment would just have an empty space that he would need to fill with something else that is not good company, hard to talk to and can't cook.

We worked odd jobs. Duo mostly focused on mechanical professions, and he hopped from garage to garage. He had once said something, on a quiet night, about preferring his hands to be dirty with grease as opposed to... I didn't know, he didn't finish the sentence. I think he meant to say blood, but that is how I would have ended that sentence and during that year I had quickly realized just how different Duo and I were. I couldn't reliably finish his sentences.

I mostly just got fired a lot. All jobs relied on a certain degree of inter-person interaction and I kept failing miserably at it. When waiting at a local diner - not my proudest moment - I accidentally spilled a pot of hot coffee on a customer because he touched my arm. To ask me for a refill, ironically. And when I worked at one of the garages alongside Duo, I got us both fired when I reacted and instinctively hit one of the other mechanics with a wrench when he playfully smacked my behind.

Then too, Duo would always remind me that he was my friend. No matter what.

I hadn't liked being called back to battle, but paradoxically, I was relieved when the phone rang. It was an acceptable excuse for my slow recovery. Like the universe was telling me and everyone else that I had been right to keep up my defenses and remain on high alert. But there were no viable excuses. I was running, hiding. In the face of peace I was a coward, a pathetic reflection of the war hero everyone idolized me to be.

In my first attempt at peace-time bravery, I looked Duo in the eyes and told him: "Thank you for being my friend."

His smile was beaming.

I had wanted to say that I was his friend as well, but I feared I would be fooling myself and sullying the title. I had always been cold and aloof to him, strangely he had never seemed to mind; it had never deterred him. It dawned on me that he deserved a kindness I could not give him. It confused me that he was so willing to give, fully aware that he was not going to get anything in return.

Over the course of several days, he kept me company. We hardly exchanged words, but he refused to leave, determined, it seemed, to become part of the hospital furniture. Day after day he sat in the uncomfortable chair pulled up to my bedside, reading a newspaper, a magazine and eventually a book one of the nurses had given him. He was very popular with the female staff, long before the book they gave hi, special privileges to stay with me outside of visiting hours and the extra bed in our private hospital room for him to sleep.

Sleeping is what I did mostly, so I had myself convinced that his presence was utterly unnecessary. Yet I could not deny that it felt nice to open my eyes occasionally and see him sitting there, completely content by my side. I always watched him for as long as I could, until my eyelids would once again become too heavy to keep open. He didn't seem to mind, he didn't even seem to notice. I watched his calm eyes as they studied the pages of the book, the way his braid draped over his shoulder and cascaded down his chest, the relaxed way with which his finger supported the book and the casual way in which he often had his legs crossed, the ankle of one leg resting on the knee of the other.

Then I noticed he wasn't turning pages very often. His gaze appeared focused on the paper, but it was clear to me that he was not actually reading when seconds became minutes and he had yet to flip to the next page. He was an exceptionally fast reader, so it was odd to me. Finally, I just decided to ask him, venturing carefully: "Is it a difficult book?"

He looked up at me with a long, questioning "hm?".

"Is it a difficult book?" I asked again.

He looked back down at the pages, a slight frown between his brows, maybe even a pout on his lips. "Not at all, why?"

"You haven't turned a page in three minutes and approximately forty seconds."

He smiled brightly, even though my comment had not been funny. It was very confusing.

"What?" I questioned defensively when he started to chuckle and shake his head.

"Leave it up to the Perfect Soldier to count how long it takes for me to turn a page."

"You are deflecting," I accused as I didn't miss the fact that he tried to dance around my question. I was trained by J to notice these things; of course the Perfect Soldier also had to be an adequate interrogator.

"I'm not, I was just amused," he said genuinely, but he was an excellent liar - I knew that even though he had not once lied to me during the year we lived together, as far as I could tell, of course. "Stop using interrogation-101 on me," he winked at me playfully and then finally answered: "I was thinking."

I nodded and assumed: "About peace." I had been making an effort myself, but so far the subject only caused me great confusion and uncertainty.

"Actually, no, I was thinking about the war."

That surprised me. After all, the war was now, officially, in the past, barring any other sudden outbreaks of military conflict. I could not claim that the war was easy to forget about, but it seemed more sensible to me to actively avoid thinking about it, those memories could only taint the peace that we had now achieved. In addition, Duo had not mentioned the war once during the entire year we lived in that cramped apartment on Earth. It seemed counterproductive to start giving it excessive thought now.

My curiosity could not be denied, so I gave in to the question my lips longed to ask: "Why?"

Now Duo evidently was the one to be surprised. "Mister Yuy, are you trying to engage in conversation?" He mocked.

I glared at him, even though it was futile. Somewhere along the way, he had become immune to it and oftentimes he would just smile at me in response.

He decided to drop the banter anyway and answer my question. "Being called back to battle just reawakened a lot of memories. It's hard not to think back to the war when we were nearly neck deep in another one." He sighed and looked away for some reason as he continued: "I have sort of been trying to pretend the war never happened. Like that would make it easier. Like that would make everything alright. But this thing with Mariemea made me realize that the war was not just a bad period in my life, it is a part of me and I realized there is some good in that part too. I was in my element, I felt useful, necessary even, I haven't felt that before... or since..." He looked at me apologetically, but I didn't understand why. "And I met a lot of great people. The other guys, Sally, Noin, you," he mustered a smile for me but it turned sad when he added: "Hilde..."

For a moment the name didn't mean anything to me, but then I remembered the OZ soldier who had risked her life to bring us valuable data. I wasn't easily impressed by other people, but I understood why Duo would consider her 'great'. She had been very brave and the information she brought us was elemental. Still, when I looked at him, I didn't get the feeling like he was thinking any of the same things I was and I had to consider that he maybe he had an alternative definition for 'great people', though I couldn't fathom what that would be, the only thing the people he named had in common were our contributions to the war. Right?

"I've been thinking a lot about Hilde lately," he admitted, his tone was guilty.

I frowned at the sudden resentment I felt. It was jealousy. Something I didn't often experience, only when Duo turned out to be better at something than I was. Why would I be jealous now?

"I meant to tell you," he started anew after so much silence had passed I had thought the conversation had ended, "she called a couple of weeks ago, out of the blue. Quatre had given her our number, the little meddler." He chuckled sheepishly. He looked at me and gauged my reaction, but of course my expression didn't betray anything.

I just stared back at him stoically, I didn't want him to know I felt jealousy; it was such a petty and useless emotion.

He looked troubled and he let out a long sigh. "That phone call must have cost her a fortune, we talked for hours."

I felt uncomfortable at the mere thought of prolonged conversation. What on earth could people have to say to each other to justify such a lengthy exchange of words?

"I told her about what I had been doing for the past year and she told me about her life," a smile appeared, a happy one, but he bit his lips and forced it away. "Her uncle owns a scrap yard on L2, she practically runs it."

To me it sounded terribly uninteresting but Duo spoke wistfully, as if he was talking about a pleasant dream.

"That battle from a couple of days ago, made me realize I miss her. I really like her." he confessed. "I had actually hoped I would see her. I don't know why I thought she would come..." He chuckled bitterly.

"She came last time," I pointed out.

A smile broke his morose expression. "She did." He suddenly looked at me with a deep frown, his hands clasped together, as if he was nervous. "She invited me to come." It more or less burst out of him and his face showed more surprise than mine at his words. "She offered me a job at the scrap yard and she has a spare bedroom that I could take."

"You barely know her." The words escaped me, I didn't mean to say them; it wasn't my place to say anything.

Duo seemed offended by my remark, agitated, he spat back: "I barely knew you." Then he bit his lip hard, but the unspoken words hung heavily in the air and were so obvious he might as well have screamed them in my ear: I still barely know you.

I felt small. I couldn't explain it, I just felt like I was shrinking in the bed, my whole being shriveling away to something pathetic. There was more jealousy as it started to become clear to me that he wasn't seeking advice, he was trying to tell me something. I had to ask, because I had to be sure. "Why are you telling me all this?"

He sighed. "A few days before the battle started I called her... and I told her I would love to come live with her and work at the scrap yard. I had tried to tell you, but then we got wind of Mariemeia's actions..."

"You could have just told me."

"With the things that unfolded, I didn't want you to be distracted."

"What makes you think this would distract me?" I snapped back at him defensively.

He glared at me for a moment, I had taught him well by example; it was quite unnerving. Then he cast his gaze to the floor tiles, frustrated. "I honestly don't know," he whispered in return, not specifically to me.

Under the sheets I balled my hands into tight, white-knuckled fists. "You should go to her then," I said. "You've made your decision."

He looked back up at me with heartfelt eyes. His hands moved, reached up, maybe reaching out to me, but he stopped himself and laid them back in his lap. "It wasn't an easy decision."

I hated that I didn't believe him. My jaw was clenched and my balled fists started to tremble. I was upset, I recognized, but the reason eluded me. I had expected this to happen, this day I knew to be a matter of "when", not "if". I never thought we would forever continue living together the way we had for that year. I could tell it wasn't satisfying Duo. I wasn't satisfying Duo. He had expected me to change, to grow, my lack thereof must have been frustrating to him. He had always been restless, searching, making a ton of meaningless friends. How could it affect me to this extent if I knew it was coming? Had I not been preparing myself for this? Did I not have enough experience with people abandoning me yet to brush this off?

"Heero," the chair dragged across the floor as he scooted closer to the bedside", "this doesn't have to be a goodbye. You could come with me to L2, get your own apartment."

"No," I said decisively. "It's fine. It's good for us to be on our own," I lied. I didn't want to travel to L2 with him, I didn't want to burden him any further. It was better like this, he would be free of me; he would be somewhere where my poison couldn't get to him.

He seemed very sad. "What are you going to do? Where will you go?"

I shrugged. I hadn't given it much thought, the future had never seemed very important to me. I had never expected to have much of a future. It was almost a disappointment that I had been wrong in that regard. With a heavy feeling in my chest I realized that though I never expected us to continue living together the way we had, a childish, naive part of me had hoped as much. It was very frustrating and I was disappointed in myself, disappointed that I had nourished that destructive hope.

"Look, I'm not going to leave right away. I will stay until you are better." He placed a warm hand on my shoulder that made all my muscles relax. "Hilde and the scrap yard can wait a little longer."

"No." I looked him sternly in the eyes. "You should go now. She has waited long enough."

He chuckled, trying to brush it off. "What makes you qualified to give that sort of advice? Even with Relena chasing you all over the world I still had to break the news to you that she was into you."

"And now you are crossing the world to be with Hilde, just like she crossed the world to bring you that information. Using your logic, it seems to me that you really like each other."

He smiled. "You're just full of surprises, aren't you?"

I felt his fingers touching a lock of my hair right by my ear, gently pulling it through and playing with it. It was strangely and inexplicably relaxing. I told him to stop. I would be without him from now on; it would take some getting used to, a process that I shouldn't delay. His calming, lighthearted presence, I realized, had become quite addictive.

"Sorry." Ashamed, he pulled back his hand, misinterpreting why I wanted him to stop.

"Go," I ordered.

"No, not before you are better."

"Now!" I insisted. There was a spike on the heart monitor. I gave him the final push he needed: "I want you to leave me alone," I said coldly.

He sighed, but was already getting to his feet. "Are you sure you'll be okay?" his voice was broken, as was his posture, it was slumped and submissive. He was leaving, I could tell he was, I had convinced him to go. I resented him for being convinced so easily, even though that was very immature of me; even though I understood no one required much convincing to cut me out of their lives.

"I can take care of myself. I don't need you to look out for me," I bit back.

"Okay... Just... promise me you won't drop off the grid. Promise me we'll stay in touch."

"Fine." I had no intention to keep this promise. It's best this way, I reminded myself.

He nodded. He was about to walk away, leave me behind, but two steps into his departure he hesitated and he walked back to me.

I gave him my best glare until he leaned in and hugged me. Hidden in the juncture between his neck and shoulder was my uncontrollably shocked expression. He had never hugged me before. No one had ever hugged me before.

I didn't return the hug, I was too unsure and too stubborn, but it felt wonderful. His cheek against my ear, his nose buried in my hair, his arms tightly around me, his fingers pressing through the fabric of the sweater, his upper chest flush against mine that I could feel heaving with his every breath.

In my ear he breathed: "I want you to know that even though it wasn't meant to be, it couldn't work out, I always thought of you as more than a friend."

I didn't know what that meant, but I hid my confusion as he pulled back and his face came into view. I spotted a sad, troubled smile. It was uncomfortable to have his face so close to mine, I feared that maybe being this close allowed him to see through my mask, deep into my eyes, deep into the truth of me. I wasn't really sure what exactly was in there to be seen, if anything at all, but it felt terribly exposing.

Then he leaned in again.

I thought he was going to hug me again, only this time he didn't turn his head to the side. His face just came closer and closer to mine and when I felt his nose against mine realization struck me like thunder. He was going to kiss me.

'More than a friend', I remembered as he closed the final distance, tilting his head slightly.

His lips pressed against mine. I didn't know what I was supposed to do, or if I was even allowed to do anything, so I just held still. I noticed his eyes were closed and figured maybe I should have closed mine as well, so I did and then all there was was the feeling of his soft lips pressed against mine.

A shiver went through me but paradoxically my skin, especially my face, felt hot. The beeps of the heart monitor came faster and faster.

It couldn't have lasted more than three seconds. Then he pulled away and opened his eyes.

I had managed to compose myself just in time, so he wouldn't notice. But there was no denying the pain I felt in my chest, or the confusion that made my head dizzy.

He didn't say anything, he just offered me another sad smile and then he took his jacket off the back of the chair he had occupied all this time and he walked away.

A little while later, I couldn't even hear his footsteps anymore. He was gone.

And I suspected he took something of mine with him.


	4. Chapter Four

**Loneliest Road**

**Chapter Four**

_\- There is no spoonful of sugar to help with the fork in the road. -_

 

We arrived at Reno late at night, but the city was bright as day. Fluorescent neon lights flickered and sparkled in the most obnoxious array of color. Many of the signs were old-fashioned, modeled after pre-colony style.

The silhouette of a scantily clad woman, whose leg kicked up and down. A cowboy continuously brought a cigarette to his mouth and then electric blue lights would flicker - smoke, supposedly. A golf club kept hitting a hole-in-one resulting in imitated fireworks.

Maybe my eyes would have held some kind of wonder in beholding the unearthly sight of abundant lights, had the situation been different, but I had made them to be dead and dim. As Duo drove us deeper into the city, slowly moving the car through dense traffic, I felt trepidation, restlessness. The lights were like caffeine to the nerves, I was in my highest state of alertness.

We didn't go straight to the hotel. First, Duo took me to the car-museum. The parking lot was nearly completely empty, old cars didn't attract much of a crowd these days and according to posters plastered on every available wall there was some sort of rock and roll event in the outskirts of the city, which probably drew people away from most of the city's other attractions.

"It's late," I commented as Duo found us a spot close to the entry.

"That's not a problem." He nodded to the lit sign over the arched doorway.

OPEN 24/7!

I had seen many similar signs on the way in. It seemed the city had truly defied the concept of night.

I followed Duo inside and watched him shell out money for two entry tickets. Inside the space was cool and mostly quiet. Video screens were suspended off the ceiling and showed old footage of long forgotten car races. Throughout the hangar-like space, cars dating back as far as the early twenty-first century were put on display, brightly lit, some on spinning platforms.

"Look at this!" Duo trotted over to a red convertible that looked familiar. "This is an earlier edition of our car."

At least that one was in mint condition, as opposed to just mint green, I thought bitterly, taking in the glossy tomato red paint job and eying my distorted reflection in the chrome of the bumper.

He showed me more cars, all of which I met with the same lack of enthusiasm. Duo wasn't blind, nor deaf to my less than stellar attitude, but as he always did, he did not give up on trying to cheer me up. It had been a successful strategy in the past, but now my gloom was too heavy to be lifted by lighthearted jokes and dry puns. After a parade of cars of unfamiliar make and model, Duo realized he had to give in to defeat. He yawned loudly and leisurely stretched his arms, making a show of it, and then said: "Man, I'm beat! Is it okay with you if we head out and look for our hotel?"

Knowing the whole charade was for my benefit, I simply nodded. Soon we were back in the mint green monster that huffed and puffed it's way across town to a hotel located in a more quiet district. We took turns showering - me going first - and I feigned sleep by the time Duo emerged from the bathroom. I felt the mattress dip as he settled next to me. I could feel his eyes on the back of my head. I was startled by the feather light touch of his fingers on my bare shoulder, but managed to maintain the game of pretense. I heard him sigh, then felt him place a light kiss against the back of my neck, before he rolled all the way to the other end of the bed, seemingly miles away.

"I'm sorry, Heero," he whispered breathily.

I wondered if he knew I was awake, but I kept pretending not to be.

The lights were switched off and then he quickly fell asleep, exhausted from a long day of driving.

After much focused effort, I managed to find sleep as well. A memory came to me in the form of a dream.

**Early AC 197**

The wind was cold but gentle as it played with my air and brushed across my cheeks. The sun was too bright for my eyes, the colors of the surroundings too intense for me to see any other way than through the lashes of my squinted eyes. My skin was sweaty, my face flushed. Walking even a short distance had somehow became an exhaustive task. My body felt sickly, not like my own, lacking every form of strength, barely holding on to the ability to stand. My knees shook. I shivered like a shriveled leaf in the mighty winds of fall, about to drop from the branch and officially be considered as dead. I was panting, I needed to sit down, but I wasn't thinking straight. I was overwhelmed, steerless.

For the first time in my life, I was alone. For the first time in my life, I was my own person. No orders to follow. No greater good to strive for. Whether I go left, right, or straight ahead, was completely up to me. No one was going to point me the way, whisper directions in my ear, or physically push me.

Never before had I less like myself. I realized there was no 'self', only the soldier, but he was of no use to me in peace time.

I was an empty shell.

It was very confrontational. It had never dawned on me before, now that it had, every prospect was daunting.

"Sir? Are you waiting for someone, sir?"

As no one else responded, I realized the voice had been calling me. I turned my stiff neck to face a young nurse I had seen several times, attending the wing where I recovered from my multiple surgeries. She wrapped a thick grey coat around herself as she stepped through the automatic doors of the hospital lobby and joined me outside in the chill of a late Luxembourg January.

I looked at her quizzically. Everything confused me in that moment.

"Mister Yuy is it, right?" She ducked her head between her shoulders, the cold affecting her more than me.

I nodded slowly.

"Are you waiting for your friend?"

"My friend?" I asked with croaked voice.

"Yes, the young man that was with you."

Right, my friend. He was gone now. "He had somewhere else to be," I explained.

"Is someone else coming to pick you up? Aren't you freezing?"

I was momentarily confused by her double question, then answered in order: "No and... I don't know." My clothes were thin, so I knew I should be cold, but I just felt hot and sweaty, after having exerted myself making my way through the hospital.

She frowned. "I didn't know you had been released."

I hadn't been. I decided it was time to go. I was quick to lose that decisiveness, being faced with a world full of difficult decision, beginning with: where do I go? I didn't answer her and I supposed that, in itself, was an answer. It sure was enough for her.

She looked back over her shoulder, as if she contemplated alerting the other nurses to my premature departure, but she didn't. "Do you have money?"

I shook my head, I only had the clothes Duo had given me, everything else, my whole previous identity, was still in the plastic bag under my hospital bed. I was confident they would dispose of it, then, at the very least, I would be free.

She sighed and then pushed one hand into her pocket, digging around. She pulled out her wallet and approached me.

I tensed up as she neared me. Fight or flight? Fight or Flight?! In the end, inaction was all I could decide on.

She pulled out several foreign bills and handed them to me. Her expression was one I recognized. One of the few. J had looked at me like that many times, though his intentions had been ill. No-room-for-argument.

With slow movements I accepted her generosity, speechless, still very much confused.

"That should be enough for a taxi and a night or two in a hotel. I'm afraid it's all I have." She walked past me and waved over one of the loitering taxi cabs that was parked a short distance away from us. It pulled up before us and she reached over to open the door. She looked back at me expectantly.

I wasn't sure it was right of me to accept her money, but I was aware that I had not been left with much choice. Relena had arranged richly filled bank accounts for all us former Gundam pilots, but it was blood money and I refused to take it. I didn't know much of making a living in a time of peace, making peace with yourself as well, but somehow I had come to the conclusion that buying a carton of milk with blood money wasn't going to help.

I put the crumpled bills I had been handed in the pocket of vest and stepped into the cab.

She shut the door and through the glass she offered me a smile, before turning on her heels and making her way back to the warmth of the hospital with hurried steps.

The cab driver slid open the plastic window separating the front from the back. Cigarette smoke blew from his mouth and nostrils as he asked me where to take me.

Still having some healing to do - needing to adjust to a new liver and wait for the stitches to dissolve and the tissue to scar and heal - I asked him to take me to the cheapest hotel in the vicinity. The nurse had not given me much, I would have to find a way to make it last as long as possible. I could have recuperated at the hospital, at Relena's expense, but there I knew I could be found and I didn't want to be found. I didn't want war comrades to pity me, to feel like they are responsible for me. It would be like rolling over a desert rock and pitying a coiled rattle snake. I was dangerous, whether or not I wanted to be. Look at Duo. He cared for me, at one point he even seemed to genuinely like me. But I could offer nothing in return, I could only coil back into myself and rattle my tail. He left just in time. I would have bitten him and left him for dead, emotionally speaking.

The taxi maneuvered through old, narrow streets. The buildings became increasingly more rundown. The sun started to set but the part of the city we were in barely came to life with lights, only dim lamps behind thick curtains and closed shutters. He stopped in front of a brown, plastered building, the streetlamp in front of it flickered, the bulb on its last stretch of life.

I was shivering violently and hesitated to get out of the cab.

"You asked for the cheapest," he reminded me.

"I know." I handed him money through the opening, just enough for the fair. Effortfully, I crawled out of the vehicle and stumbled across the pavement to the heavy front door of the building. Nowhere did it say it was a hotel. I pushed the door open and stepped inside. I was sheltered from the wind, but it wasn't much warmer. There was a bald, unsanitary looking man sitting behind a rotten desk, his feet propped onto it. A gun lay blatantly on a stack of papers. His hands blindly searched for the handle as he spotted me. He fingered it idly as he looked me up and down. On his neck he had a stylized tattoo of a penis on one side, a skull with hollow eyes on the other. The knuckles on his right hand had "FUCK" inked into the skin, the knuckles of his left hand: "LOVE"

I was guarded, but not afraid.

"I need a room," I said in German in my trademarked monotone.

He replied: "And I need a hot piece of ass. Maybe we can work something out?" He grinned, baring his stained teeth.

His remark didn't concern me, I didn't presume him to be serious and even if he was, despite my current physical state I would still be able to handle him. "I have money."

"That'll do I guess."

I counted the bills in my hand, feeling his eyes on me. I tucked away some for food and offered him the majority of it.

He counted the money, checking for counterfeit. "Three days," he said.

I deemed that reasonable, the money hadn't been much. I nodded in agreement.

He produced an old-fashioned key with a room number pressed into it. "Enjoy your stay. Dial one for room service..." He let out a loud cackle but it turned into a sickly cough. Distracted, he pointed me down the hallway as he tried to subdue his heaving.

I followed the hallway to a flight of stairs. On the second floor I found a door with a number that corresponded with the one on my key. It took some persuasion - force - but I managed to unlock the creaking door and flicked on the single, overhead light. The room wasn't much. A single bed. A wooden chair. A small window with wrought iron bars, overlooking a dark alley. Mold stained a corner of the ceiling. No phone. No bathroom, only a plaque on the inside of the door with directions to the common bathroom down the hall.

I had suffered worse, at a higher price, so there were no complaints. With no closet and no possessions to store away, I headed straight for the bed, falling down onto it. The mattress was hard, the pillow lumpy and the sheets itchy, but I was exhausted. To rest my heavy legs felt heavenly regardless. I blacked out very quickly.

I woke up a couple of times, only briefly, disoriented, sweaty and feverish, feeling the ache in my back and in my abdomen where they had had to cut me open. Never could I muster the energy to get up, not even to relieve myself. At one point, I was vaguely aware of wetting my pants. I couldn't move to check my watch for the time or date. I had no awareness of the time that passed. I just kept falling back into a fuzzy darkness.

As deep into that blackness as I was, my body had not forgotten its training and was still focused on its surrounding. A sudden, muted sound felt like a pinch in my ear, persistently pulling me out of the immersive experience of unconsciousness. Then, with a start, I was awake, my eyes wide open, staring at the opposite wall. The sound I recognized as someone fumbling with the lock of the door, the same way I had fumbled with it.

The room was dark until the door was pried open and a bar of cold light cut through the space, straight across my face.

Adrenaline started to pump as the door was pushed open all the way and a tall silhouette appeared, but it wasn't easy to fire up my muscles and will myself into motion.

When the figure noticed movement, it stilled and then a gritty voice sounded. "It's been over three days. I need more payment."

With stiff, tired movements I sat up, recognizing the voice as that of the man from downstairs. More than three days? No wonder I was as weak now as when I had gone to bed, I hadn't had a thing to eat or drink all that time. "I passed out," I tried to explain.

"There are no excuses." He firmly shut the door behind him and momentarily I was blind in the sudden dark. "I know you don't have enough money to repay me."

Though my mind was incoherent, I noted he didn't sound angry, he sounded... pleased.

"Look, I'm not a bad guy or anything," the man said as he came closer to the bed. "All I really want is a blowjob, that's not unreasonable, is it?"

My face felt hot as blood rushed through my veins to awaken my limbs and spur them into action. I felt him coming closer and started to smell his foul breath, a smell even stronger than that of my own urine. I closed my eyes, feeling instincts becoming me. There was no stopping it, my body knew what to do and my mind didn't know how to stop it.

The instant I felt his large, calloused hand on my shoulder, about to urge me forward, I covered it with my own, holding it in place as I snapped my left hand from left to right, connecting powerfully with his outstretched forearm. It yielded. The bone snapped where I hit it. The man screamed. In pain he doubled over, his other hand reaching for my thigh. I didn't know if he was just reaching for support or if he was continuing the attack. My body didn't leave me time to think it over. My left arm, that was still over on the other side, pushed back. The sharp end of my elbow collided with the back of his neck as he came forward, into my personal space. There was another snap of bone. This time there was no scream. The body went limp, he sagged against me but I immediately pushed him away and he fell to the grungy carpet with a thud.

Dead.

I panted through my wide open mouth and stared at him. I knew I should feel bad, but I didn't feel anything. I just felt more tired. Still, I leaned forward and vomited. There was little left in me to cough up. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and then rose on shaky legs. I stepped over his crumpled body and walked away.

Recognizing I needed sanitary clothing to prevent infection, I went downstairs and found the room the man had been staying in. He lived in an equally cramped room in his own 'hotel', but there was a closet with clean clothes. I took a pair of sweatpants and a belt upstairs with me, to the bathroom, where I cleaned myself, discarded my pants in the tub and lit them on fire and washed my underwear in the sink with soap, drying it with a blow-dryer.

Outside it was pouring rain, I was soaking wet in an instance. In the distance a church bell rang three times. Three AM. I walked over to a working streetlamp and looked at my watch for the date.

25-01-197

I had left the hospital the twenty-third. Less than three days had past, not more. The man had lied, relying it would make me more subjective to accepting his abuse.

I didn't feel anything. Only one thought crossed my mind: If I had let him rape me, I would still have a place to sleep, rather than being on the run. I wondered if I had made the wrong decision by fighting him off.

I went back inside and searched the desk I had found him sitting at the day I arrived. In a bottom drawer I found a locked, metal box. I placed the box against the side of the desk, just the lock resting on the surface and then pounded my elbow down on the box. The lock snapped off. I lost my grip on the box and it fell to the floor, crumpled bills scattered. I gathered all it off, a couple of hundred bucks. I needed the money and at least by stealing the money, the murder would look like a rather straightforward mugging.

With my pockets stuffed with bills I went back outside. The rain plastered my bangs to my forehead and droplets gathered on my lashes, making it hard to see the dark streets ahead of me. After walking a couple of blocks, I found a pub that was still open.

OPEN 24/7! was written on a chalkboard outside, the words quickly fading in the downpour of rain.

There was only a bartender and a single patron, both looked at me as I stepped inside.

"You look a little too young for me to be serving you a strong drink, son, even though you look like you could use one," the bartender commented in French.

"I just want something to eat," I said in the appropriate language.

"This isn't exactly the place to be looking for fine Luxembourg cuisine, son, but I can fry something for you."

I nodded.

He disappeared through a door.

I seated myself at a table in the corner, as for away from the other man as I could. About five minutes later I was brought a plate of a variety of greasy fried foods and a large glass of water. I paid and was then gratefully left alone. I ate in small, tentative bites, not sure how much of that kind of food my stomach would be able to handle. It was also a good way to pass the time as the rain still came down in buckets.

Over two hours later, while I was nursing a complementary cup of tea, a police car with blaring sirens passed by. A mere flash of a white and orange vehicle and red and blue blinking lights.

"So what's your name, kid?" The bartender asked.

His sudden interest following the passing by of the police car alerted me. "Kid is fine."

He chuckled from behind the bar. "You must have a name."

"Not really," I replied surprisingly candidly.

"Well, what did your old man call you?"

I knew generally speaking "old man" was a comical, lighthearted reference to someone's father, but the only old man I had in my life was J, so I said: "Heero." That is what he called me.

He smiled. "That's a good name." He paused briefly, then started again: "There was a good fellow in the colonies named Heero. Heero Yuy. Long while back. Folk remember him as a real hero, sad story though. I suppose it's no coincidence your name is Heero too. You must have heard many stories about him."

I sighed and looked down at my cup. "There is really no need for small-talk."

He snorted. "Jeez... kids these days."

I figured I had probably outstayed my welcome, so I finished my tea and headed back outside. The rain clouds had drifted past, the sky was crisp, dotted with faint stars. I dragged my feet as I walked, my body was still exhausted, my abdomen stung with pain, my hip throbbed. I felt neither awake nor unconscious. I felt dead. There were no thoughts, no emotions. There was a telling lack of everything.

In the early morning, the sunrise a mere suggestion at the horizon, I found another hotel, one a little more decent. I had more then enough money for a couple of days. During the days and during the nights, I mostly slept, my body was in desperate need of it. I went out only once to buy food -no perishables - new bandaging, medication and a few fresh sets of clothes. I was soon running low on cash. With the last of it, I bought a train ticket, with no particular destination in mind. I counted the remaining money in my pocket, approached the ticket sales desk and asked which train ticket's costs came closest to the amount I had left. Still feeling indecisive about the greater scheme of things, I figured it was as close to fate as possible and it would be a good way to experiment with the concept of fate.

Forty minutes later I was seated in the second class area of a high-speed train to Amsterdam, the Netherlands, with seventy fours cents left in my pocket. I had no idea why I was going there, or what I would do once I got there. I didn't really know why I bothered to travel at all, but I had myself convinced it was because I needed to get out of the war-torn city and away from my victim, in case polisce would come looking for me in relation to either the war or the murder.

In hindsight, I believed I was actually looking for something, even though I didn't understand yet at that time what I was looking for. I just knew that whatever it was, it obviously hadn't been in Luxembourg.

I knew later that I was looking for a feeling. Any feeling, as long as it was real and meant something. Love, hate, guilt, happiness, I wasn't picky. I needed reassurance that the shell that I was could be filled with something... human. I needed to not feel nothing after just killing someone. How else could I stop myself from being this monster that I was taught to call the soldier?

For some reason, in that train, thundering through the flat, green landscape, I thought of Duo. I remembered feeling something when he kissed me, but had forgotten what it had been - or had never really known to begin with. However vague it was, it was a promise. A promise that, on the condition that I was open to it, I could feel.

It would turn out to be a long, discouraging, painful search.

**AC 206**

"Heero. Heero."

With a gasp I sat up straight. I felt sweat cooling on my exposed skin. My breath came in arduous pants.

"It's okay. You were having a nightmare," Duo said softly, his hand on my shoulder, his thumb moving in circles.

I wiped my brow with the back of my hand, trying to control the unsettling feeling in my stomach.

"It's been a while since you a had a nightmare," he noted with concern.

"Those are in the past."

"You weren't dreaming about your training?"

"No."

"What were you dreaming about?"

"Nothing. I don't know."

Worried, he continued: "Were you dreaming about your time in Amsterdam?"

Knowing he wouldn't relent until I would give him an honest answer, I replied: "Luxembourg."

His thumb briefly stilled. "Heero," he insisted softly, leaning in closer, "that man wanted to molest you and you were probably one of only few who managed to protect themselves. He does not deserve your guilt."

"I killed someone after promising myself I would never do that again. I know now that if I wouldn't feel guilt, there would be something wrong with me, in spite of the kind of man he may or may not have been." I looked at him poignantly. "Not everyone brushes off guilt so easily," I accused.

His hand disappeared. His expression was one of shock and hurt. "You think I don't feel guilty? For what I did to you? For cheating on you?" He shook his head. "Heero, guilt has been eating at me ever since that night. You see, I made a promise to myself too, that I would never let you down again, the way I did when I left you that day in that hospital. I broke that promise, a promise not only to me, but to you as well," he held up his hand, showing the wedding band on his ring finger, "and it's... gut-wrenching, whenever I think of it, whenever I imagine how you must have felt. 'Guilt' doesn't even come close. That is not something I can brush off, I will forever carry that. I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you." He touched my neck with his warm hand, trying to sooth me, trying to reconnect.

I allowed myself a single moment to relish its warmth before shaking it off.

"Hopefully one day I'll earn your trust and love back."

I let out a long sigh. "You have more important things to worry about now." I was startled when he reached out both his hands to cup my face, he repositioned to look deeply into my eyes.

"Nothing is more important than you," he assured me with an emotional tone.

I bit back a scathing remark: that I must not have seemed all that important to him the night he decided to sleep with Hilde. I thought it nevertheless. Even though I knew he loved me and trusted that I was of great importance to him, I didn't have faith that Duo's priorities would never waver again. I couldn't help but doubt if I could ever trust him again, the way I once did. I hated that. However, I did not hot hate him. It was confusing.

I hated that too.

There was only one thing I knew to be true and to be constant, that he was most important to me.

It was ironic how the tables had turned on me. I used to be the one letting people down, not being able to return their emotional investment, disappointing them with my actions that lacked compassion and understanding. In a way, I was getting what I had dished out. I wondered if there was some higher purpose to that.

I was still a foolish student, being whipped for his unknowing mistakes. Only this punishment left no welts on my back, but scarring on my heart.

I abruptly ended the conversation by lying back down, facing away from him and stubbornly pulling up the sheets to cover myself up to my neck. The rest of the night was uneasy as I remembered the past, all the while acutely aware from the rhythm of Duo's breathing that he was also still awake. With dry, sore eyes I watched as sunlight started to filter through the drawn curtains, announcing the arrival of morning, a new day. Not having to pretend to be asleep anymore, I promptly got out of bed and started to get dressed.

"Do you want me to order room service or shall we go down to the hotel restaurant?" Duo tiredly asked as he stretched his limbs, trying to act normal and not feed the tension that was raging between us.

Generally my preference would go to room service. However much improvement and personal development I had gone through, crowded places still had me on edge, but that morning, the prospect of a completely quiet breakfast opposite of Duo, bathing in the tense atmosphere that had filled up the hotel room, seemed more challenging to me than facing a restaurant full of people, so I opted for the latter option.

We packed our bags and brought them to the car, confident no one would be balsy enough to steal them in broad daylight from our car's trunk, with people walking around. Then we returned the keycard to the front desk and found a small table by the wall of glass overlooking the pool, where the first of young children had gathered and were splashing around.

It was a buffet. Duo offered to get me a plate. Feeling absentminded, I let him.

I watched the children play in the shallow end of the pool as I waited for Duo to return with our breakfast. A young girl in a pink, polka-dot bathing suit sat on the first step into the water, her index fingers drawing playful patterns into the surface of the water and she seemed fascinated watching them disappear as she drew them. Two, slightly older boys - twins -, both in navy blue trunks, were waist deep in the pool, splashing water at each other and wrestling. From underneath the shadow of a strategically planted tree a mother in a straw sunset watched diligently, a book in her lap that was not getting much attention. A man - the husband, the father - walked over with a plate of melon and offered her a piece, then a kiss, before taking the plate to the children, holding it out to them.

They sure made it seem easy, I thought to myself. It seemed such a straightforward concept: family. Mom. Dad. Kids. Happiness ensues. How did we manage to fuck it up so royally?

"Cute kids," Duo said by way of announcing his return, he placed a plate richly filled with delicious, fresh food in front of me.

I was sure he felt the same stinging pain in his heart as I did in mine.

"They sure didn't waste any time getting in the water," he continued with a soft voice, sitting down and looking out the window.

"It's the desert," I pointed out in reply, "it'll soon get too hot to play out in the sun."

"Hm."

I watched him casually eat a large, vibrant red strawberry. I blinked away images of a misplaced, inappropriate memory. I noticed the look in his eyes as they trailed the father, who had joined the kids in the pool and was play-attacking the two boys and making the young daughter laugh with his bizarre expressions. It was a look of longing and worry at the same time.

I didn't want him to look like that. I didn't want him to feel like that.

"You will make a good father," I told him sincerely.

He looked at me in surprise at my unexpectedly kind comment. "Yeah?" He asked with a grateful smile.

I nodded, then looked away, his expression made me feel uncomfortable, because I wasn't done being angry with him yet, but it was difficult to dislike him when he looked at me like that: utterly loving.

"So will you."

I didn't respond. It was unsurprisingly painful.

"Heero," he started tentatively in a hushed voice, "we can still have a child of our own, together. If you want. Just because..." He bit his lip. After composing himself, he nodded outside, at the happy family. "We can still have that."

"Maybe we're not supposed to," I commented, pushing a strawberry around my plate with my silver fork.

"What?"

"Because we're gay, maybe we're not supposed to, maybe it's not meant to be that way. I mean, look at what happened."

He frowned. "That doesn't sound like you at all."

"You are having a baby with Hilde now, not with me," I bit. "Maybe you should accept that Hilde and I represent two different lives for you and you should choose which life you want. Do you want that," I nodded outside, "or do you want me?" I gazed at him challengingly.

The sudden aggression in my voice perplexed him and he needed a moment to figure out a response. "Heero, this trip is not about me making a decision. I have to be there for Hilde, out of duty, responsibility, but it's you I want to be with, out of love." He shook his head and added: "Besides, why would our life together have to be different from straight couples all of a sudden? Is this change of heart because of the situation with Hilde, or because-"

"This is probably not the right time or place to discuss this," I interrupted. I couldn't let him finish that sentence. I was fearful of the emotions it would awaken. Or maybe I was most afraid there might be a lack of emotion.

He sat back in his seat, he appeared deflated. "I guess you're right..." He looked around, noticing a couple at the table closest to ours had been stealing glances. "Can I help you?" He asked, his tone dangerous.

The couple shared a glance between them and then looked down at their plates.

"Heero, tell me, why did you stay with me after I told you of my night with Hilde?" Duo inquired quietly. "I can tell being with me hurts you," he rightfully observed.

"Being without you would hurt me even more," I answered, refusing eye-contact. From experience I knew this to be the truth.

He reached out across the table and gently took hold of both my hands, cradling them in his own. Two of his fingers idly toyed with the wedding ring on my finger. He stared at our entwined hands intently.

The soldier part of me, that I had allowed to come back to life for the sake of my own protection, whispered venomously in my ear to pull my hands back into my lap, but I didn't want to, so I didn't. The soldier was weakened. Weaker now than me. He couldn't order me anymore, couldn't hurt me anymore, but unfortunately, consequently, he also couldn't protect me anymore.

"I will do anything and everything to make being with me stop hurting," he promised solemnly. "But sometimes I don't know what that is, when you pull away from me, when you shut yourself off from me. I don't want you to mistake my confusion for indifference, or choosing Hilde over you, or choosing myself over you." He held my gaze with a heartfelt look in his own eyes.

"I will always love you," I assured him, "but I just don't like you very much at the moment. I just need time to get over that. You don't have to organize roadside picnics or make jokes about everything. I appreciate your efforts, but at the same time it makes me feel like you are rushing me; like you're trying to push me up a wall that, ultimately, I don't currently have the strength to climb."

He nodded. "Okay." Then smiled sadly. "Thank you." He reached for the roadmap dotted with red and blue markers and held it up with a more sheepish smile. "So maybe, for now, we should just forget about all this sightseeing stuff and just head down the highway?"

Still stubbornly keeping my emotions and expression in check, I replied mildly: "I think that would be best."

Duo nodded again, in agreement. "Okay."

We finished our emotionally laden breakfast and got back on the road. After our detour, Duo took the car back to the main highway that crossed the country from west to east. We met up with the highway where it crossed route 95, just past Fallon. During the stretch of road that we crossed during the day, stopping only for a brief lunch and a drive-thru, deep-fried, dinner I noticed many road signs all proclaiming the same.

THE LONELIEST ROAD IN AMERICA.

At one point, one of the few other cars on the highway sped by us with a tongue-in-cheek bumper sticker that read:

I SURVIVED THE LONELIEST ROAD IN AMERICA.

At the end of the day, under cover of night, we crossed state lines into Utah, officially leaving the barren strip of tarmac known as "the loneliest road in America" behind us, but for us, the "loneliest road" would continue and stretch all the way to Washington as we traveled in absolute silence. I was unsure if, at the end of our journey, we too could claim to have survived it.


	5. Chapter Five

**Loneliest Road**

**Chapter Five**

_\- In life's journey there are no passengers, only drivers. Not all necessarily wanting to go in the same direction, or traveling by the same rules. -_

* * *

**AC 197**

I slept under a different bridge every night. Several canals runs through Amsterdam, crossed by hundreds of bridges, plenty to choose from. People don't look twice at people sleeping on the streets. They are the invisibles of our society and in a way I was grateful to have joined them, to go unnoticed. I felt like I had completely disappeared and I was fine with that. I spent my days on park benches, watching the pigeons. Sometimes, a person would catch my eye; somewhere afar, a blurred figure, always with chestnut hair. Never with a braid.

I had come with a cause, a destination - I had hoped to find myself, within the hard outer shell in which I lived - but I had soon lost that. It felt like a challenge and I was too exhausted to see it through. The world around me felt terribly uninteresting. I supposed "uninterested" was a kind of emotional state and at the moment I considered it my only victory.

On exceptionally cold nights I sought refuge at the shelter. They had a bed and lukewarm showers. Those were the only luxurious I allowed myself. None of the other invisibles approached me, we were as blind to and distrusting of each other as the world was of us. We all wore the blue parka's that the salvation army had handed out in the park when the cold was reaching it's dangerous peak, but we didn't belong together. We shared a sort of uniform, like soldiers united in an army, but we were enemies. At the shelter my shoes were stolen two times before I learned I had to keep them on in bed. The people who managed the shelter were kind enough to get me new shoes each time. Amsterdam was filled with invisibles after the war, it had become a harbor to refugees as it was one of the few places where the government was generous to the unseen members of civilization.

I was the worst one out there, even amongst drunks and sexual predators that society had cast out. I killed someone to protect myself, stole money from him, then abused a system that owed me nothing, all for a life not worth living.

The bitter cold of winter drifted away, and perhaps it was the vain hope that the first spring sunrays offered, or just my steadfast rationality, but I realized I mustn't waste my life the way I had. I had taken so many lives so my own and my purpose could be maintained, I felt determined to find the answer that had bothered me since my very first kill, when my gun still felt heavy in my hands, rather than an extension of it: am I worthy of life?

I was inclined to believe no and recognized it would be obnoxiously arrogant to think otherwise but I was left with only two options: make the best of this life that I had fought to preserve, or kill myself. The latter I was reluctant to do because then everyone I had ever stopped from killing me, by killing them instead, would have been a wasted death and my life a wasted life. The former I was reluctant do because it just seemed too damn hard and impossible.

Yet, a free life, I had discovered, was about making choices. I could not run away from them because then they would always be there looming over you while you are stuck in twilight.

On a park bench, a pigeon eyeing me for scraps, I decided.

Option B, being the most definitive one, would make for a valid back-up plan.

I was skilled, a quick learner, highly intelligent, strong, punctual and reliable and Dutch was one of the twelve language I spoke fluently - growing up I had a lot of time on my hands, being deprived of free time and toys to play with, J made sure my time was spent productively. After a thorough shower the shelter supplied me with a presentable set of second-hand clothes and over the sink I cut my hair short, less haphazard and messy and did my best to make it look good. I didn't trust anyone to hold scissors near me.

But of course being an undocumented immigrant thwarted my best attempts at getting a decent job. Having the shelter as my "home address" didn't help matters either.

After a lot of raised eyebrows, I was finally, reluctantly, given a job.

My technical skills would be put to good use... The Espresso machine at the diner where I served as a waiter was temperamental at best.

I slept at the shelter for three months, sometimes on the floor, because there wasn't always a bed available for me and they couldn't play favorites. Even though I suspected I was a welcome sight to the kind manager, who had been appreciative of me ever since I fixed the problem that had been causing power outages. I worked hundred hour weeks, I only left the diner to sleep. I took on every shift that was offered to me.

The work was mind-numbingly simple, but I welcomed the numbness. The questions in my head had been more exhausting than the extra long shifts.

After three months of being named "employee of the month" I had saved enough money to start renting the tiniest studio apartment in a seedy part of town, above a noisy bar.

This meaningless life continued for a long time, not as long as it seemed to me, but still long. I got the impression my colleagues were starting to like me. They smiled at me a lot and no longer seemed jealous that my face kept appearing on that "employee of the month" plaque and they laughed sometimes, when I said something that I didn't think was funny. It was very peculiar. Stranger still was the touching. It caught me off guard at first and I gave Alex - a colleague of approximately my age - a bloody nose with my swinging elbow when he laid a hand on my shoulder passing me by in the narrow aisle between the tables.

Even more surprising is that he never suspected it to be anything more than an innocent accident. He laughed it off - blood on his lips and teeth - went to the back to clean up and never mentioned it.

He did keep touching me though. On the shoulder. On the arm. On the back. Once he put his hand on the back of my head and ruffled my hair. By then it had grown out to the length where I had kept during the war and for whatever reason he remarked he liked it best at that length, because it made me "look like the kid I was".

Alex was very strange, but not a threat, I learned. Neither were the others.

All of a sudden, it was Christmas again. I had offered to take the Christmas Eve shift, but the owner wouldn't let me, he wanted a more "cheery" staff to mind the diner that night, so he sent me home.

I walked through the snow. My hands were tucked deep into the pockets of the coat I had recently bought. I spent little of my modest savings. I didn't need much, as I had always made do with next to nothing.

When I reached my building, I realized I didn't want to go home. It wasn't really "home" anyway, it was just a leaky roof, drafty walls and chipped paint surrounding a whole lot of nothing, not even furniture. I wasn't sad. I searched for the feeling, but I couldn't find it. I didn't feel lonely either, I hoped I did, but the feeling wasn't there. The thought of spending the evening there just didn't interest me. It didn't seem very productive either. I realized for the first time that I hadn't been executing my Plan A very successfully; I had a job, not a life. I still felt nothing.

On a whim I pushed open the door, not the one that led to upstairs, but the one that led into the bar.

It was hot inside, I took off my coat with my second step into the space. I scanned the room. It wasn't very crowded, very few people didn't have a better place to be on Christmas Eve than a musty bar with old disco music. I noticed the bartender's eyes were on me, looking at me intently. Officially I was a minor, so I wasn't allowed to be there, but I lived above the bar long enough to know that they enjoyed stretching the rules. I was pretty sure smoking weed in the street was illegal, but I sure hadn't had the chance to open my windows for fresh air that summer. And surely having sex in the adjacent ally wasn't encouraged by law enforcement either but I had to learn to sleep through the moaning.

I approached the bar and seated myself on the high, leather padded stool. The bartender came up to me immediately, rubbing a beer glass dry with the towel in his hands.

His physique was intimidating, he was built immensely; tall, muscled and broad shoulders. His face was weathered, but handsome, with a cunning grin and plotting gaze. His hair was deceptively boyish, as he was clearly much older than me. Glossy chestnut brown in a short ponytail. He stood before me momentarily, just rubbing his big hands around the glass, looking at me. "Can I see some ID?" He asked in Dutch, with deep, gravelly voice.

I wasn't nervous, I knew at worst he would send me to the door, with no where else to go but my empty apartment. "Why?"

He smirked and leaned in closer, resting his elbows on the counter between us. "Because I would love to know your name, pretty doll."

A doll, attractive to the eye, but with a cold and unyielding exterior and nothing inside. It seemed only fitting. "Alex," I lied in response to his purred inquiry, appropriately distrusting of him.

His smirk widened and he leaned in even closer. "That is not your name," he whispered.

I was an awful liar, Duo had been the one to break that news to me. I didn't know why, in that moment, I thought of Duo, but I did. I looked at the bartender's hair and I remembered the feel of Duo's chestnut strands running between my fingers as he always had me braid his hair.

"My name is Heero."

"Heero... That is a very sexy name."

I didn't even know what that meant, but I was confused even more by his boldness.

The bartender shook his head and chuckled deeply. "You do realize this is a gay bar, right?"

Of course I did. The throaty moans in the depth of night of the exclusively male clientele left had no doubt. But gay and straight meant nothing to me, as they both referred to a kind of sexuality and I possessed no kind of sexuality. It was all equally alien. "I do. I live right above here." Only later did I think that maybe I should not have told him that.

"Ah, so you're the one! How come I've never seen you here before?"

"I work." I didn't understand why he kept prolonging the conversation. If he wasn't going to kick me out, wasn't he just supposed to offer me a drink and then leave me alone?

"Hm. All work and no play?"

"Playing is for children."

He chuckled. "Oh, yes and you are way too old for that." He added with a wink: "You're never too old to play. Would you like a drink?"

Finally. "Yes." I thought of ordering water, but decided against it. I didn't know if drinking and playing were somehow involved, but I recognized being playful is doing something that I normally wouldn't do. I quickly scanned the bottles that lined the wall behind him and picked the first that sounded familiar. "Scotch."

"Single malt, single grain, blended malt, blended grain or blended?"

The simple decision of scotch over water was suddenly very complicated. I had no idea what any of the things he just said meant, so I chose randomly.

"Straight up?"

More confusing questions. I didn't know what he meant but suspected I would make a fool of myself by asking, so I just said: "Sure."

"Straight up scotch in a gay bar," he commented, then poured an inch of the ice-tea colored drink into a glass and firmly placed it in front of me.

It felt like a challenge. Not willing to back down, I grabbed the glass and took a large swig of the liquid. I coughed as it went down leaving a strong, burning sensation in my throat and a nasty taste in my mouth. I managed to maintain an indifferent expression, or so I thought, but he started laughing at me.

"Where are you from, Heero?"

Innocent enough, but it was a loaded question to me, as I had no idea. I had no background, I had no roots. I was vague by only answering with: "The colonies."

"Wow, then you are a long way from home."

"My apartment is right upstairs," I reminded him.

"That is a different kind of home."

I had no idea what to think of a home, or what the word even really meant. People seemed to attach so much more value to it than the dictionary did, it had me all confused. I finished my horrible drink in two more big gulps, realizing that I didn't want to be in the bar anymore.

It seemed the bartender had different ideas. As soon as my glass was empty, he filled it with the drink of my choice. "You weren't thinking of leaving so soon, were you?" He asked slyly.

I guess not, I grumbled inwardly, succumbing to his persistence that I couldn't accuse of being anything other than charming. I looked up at him and saw more of Duo in him than I first did - or wanted to. His eyes had a mischievous glimmer in them that distracted the focus from the darkness that lurked in the depths of them. His features were handsome; masculine with a boyish, personable appearance to them. He had a strong jaw line that framed his crookedly curved lips as he smirked at me.

He didn't look like someone I could trust, but, paradoxically, that made me more inclined to do just that. He didn't try to hide, he didn't pretend to be a shallow archetype of an insignificant character in life's never ending novel. He was forward and made no secret of having secrets. That quality drew me in, made me take my time with the second drink and not make any objections when he poured me a third.

Having never had alcohol in my life, the effect of those three glasses was potent. I felt like I had been drugged. My vision was foggy, my mind fuzzy. My thoughts were slow and irrelevant, my limbs weak and uncoordinated.

The bartender - who's name was not yet revealed to me - physically carried me upstairs after last call. In the dark, smoky hallway he propped me up against the wall and searched my pocket for a key. I purposefully kept my hands out of the way and allowed my instincts to be obstructed by the blissfully mind numbing mist that had settled in my head. If I had focused on the panic that overcame as soon as his hands descended on me, I would have killed him, like I had killed that man in Luxembourg. I didn't want that. I might not have felt them yet, but I knew the emotional consequences would be unbearable if I ever did manage to reach that state of emotional awareness and openness.

The door was opened and I was picked up again.

The bartender said something. "There's nothing here."

"There sure isn't..." I agreed sheepishly.

He sighed and set me down on the sleeping bag in the corner where I typically spent my nights.

I had expected something to happen. I had expected to feel his big hands on me again. I knew I wouldn't fight it. It would be better if I would just stand it.

But he didn't touch me again. The nameless bartender covered me up. "Are you going to be okay, all by yourself, pretty doll?"

I nodded, already half asleep. More softly spoken words were exchanged, but I couldn't remember what had been said the next day.

I woke up in the early afternoon, blinking my eyes to stare quizzically at a glass of water and two Ibuprofen. For the splitting headache, I presumed. I popped the pills into my mouth and washed them down with the water. The glass, I realized, wasn't mine. How could it be? I owned but a single mug for my morning and evening tea. The gold logo of the bar - mostly faded and chipped off - meant I had no choice but to go to the bar again. An intentional move on his part, I believed.

There was something undeniably enigmatic about him; the way he moved, the way the words rolled off his tongue so effortlessly and the way he looked at me. For the first time in my free life I had found something interesting. I was drawn to him, to both the alien and the familiar quality to him. This inquisitiveness - I wasn't sure what else to call it - caused me to stop by the bar every day after work, just to watch him work and to listen to him talk. He seemed amused by my visits and my undivided attention. He seemed to enjoy it. He became increasingly forward, flirtatious and suggestive but I was too ignorant to notice.

Eventually, I was bothered enough not knowing to ask him: "What is your name?"

He revealed his most mischievous smirk yet. "I had been waiting for you to ask me."

He had been waiting for several weeks, so I mistook him for the patient type.

"My name is Hendrik Schuyler." He extended his hand out towards me, over the bar.

I hesitated, but then I remembered the strategy I had planned, to make the decision-making process less challenging: just do what I normally wouldn't. I reached out and tentatively shook his hand. "Heero," I repeated. I knew my last name would complicate matters so I purposefully omitted it.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Heero," he purred and teased: "Pretty doll."

I noticed he held on to my hand unconventionally long, then felt him pull me closer to him, both of us leaning over the bar, nearly meeting in the middle. His face was so close, I was instantly reminded of what had happened between me and Duo in the hospital and I wondered with no defined preference if I would be kissed again.

Hendrik didn't kiss me. He studied my face, shamelessly, and I let him because embarrassment was not yet one of the emotions I was capable off. Curiosity had been a big step for me. The only time I had ever felt something was when Duo said goodbye to me in the hospital, but no trace of that had been left, like he had taken it with him. It was like him leaving had made even more dead on the inside than I was and than I thought I could be. I had to find a new Duo, to make me feel.

I had started to realize it wasn't easy to surround myself with people who could evoke feeling in me, but Hendrik - with his little oddities and facial expressions that reminded me of the braided Gundam pilot - seemed like my best chance.

I flinched when the fingers of his other hand suddenly grasped my chin. I strained my neck to pull my face away, but he shifted his grip to my jaw and firmed his hold, pulling me back towards him. I was squeezing his hand tightly, my other hand balled into a white-knuckled fist, as I struggled to suppress the physical reaction to his forcefulness that had been instilled in me. The lifeless body of the motel manager flashed before my widened eyes and I didn't yet understand why, but that was what definitively prevented me from reacting. My whole body relaxed when Hendrik's hold became more gentle and his thumb stroked the sharp edge of my jaw, under my ear.

"You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen," he whispered with deep voice, staring into my eyes.

It was a compliment and even though I could not take credit for the genetic code that had engineered my facial structures, I thanked him, because normally I wouldn't.

He let go of my jaw and straightened up.

I found I was inexplicably slow in sitting back myself.

"You've been coming here for a long time now," he remarked, casually reaching for a glass to dry.

"Does it bother you?"

"Hmmm... not at all. I was just wondering if maybe you didn't have anybody else to hang out with."

I shrugged. "I don't have friends."

"That's a shame," he said matter-of-factly and briefly interrupted the conversation to serve a customer.

"Maybe you and I are friends?" I asked when he returned. "We've been 'hanging out' and you've been buying me drinks all this time."

He looked at me meaningfully, his gaze hooded by his eyebrows. "I don't want to be your friend," he replied severely. "We've been hanging out because you keep dropping by my workplace. And I've been buying you drinks... because I want to be more than friends."

'More than friends'. I felt dizzy as the words rang in my ears and I heard Duo's voice coming from a memory of a moment a long time ago by then. 'I always thought of you as more than a friend.'

My heart rate quickened like it had in the hospital and I felt a similar pain in my chest. Neither I could explain, but maybe they were effects of an emotion that I didn't yet understand or could define. Maybe being more than friends was the key to discovering my ability to feel and emote. I may not have known what emotions I had been experiencing, or why, but for the first time in a long time, I felt alive, felt something more than the distinction between bored and interested. It was fascinating and encouraging and it appeared I had Hendrik to thank for that.

I blurted: "I want to be more than friends too." Keeping to my strategy.

His mouth formed a satisfied smirk. "Yeah?"

"Yes," I affirmed. Ever since the first night we met and he carried me upstairs and never harmed me or abused me, I trusted him, if only because I desperately needed someone to trust. I trusted him to help me explore myself and bring me to life.

I trusted him.

And that was exactly what he wanted.

* * *

**AC 206**

"What are you thinking about?" Duo's words interrupted the lyrics of the song that blasted through the speakers. He had turned up the volume to drown out the uncomfortable silence, but I guessed to no avail, otherwise he wouldn't be trying to engage me in conversation.

"Nothing," I lied. Hendrik was a difficult part of my past, for both of us, albeit for different reasons. Neither of us enjoyed talking about him, so I spared us both.

"Are you hungry? It's about lunchtime." He turned down the radio, making it clear this conversation wasn't about to be ended, no matter how hard I would try.

"Not really." My appetite had suffered a significant blow as of late.

"We're making good progress on our trip now that we have cut the activities. Soon we'll be a whole day ahead of schedule. Our hotel reservations won't line up with where we are at the time."

"Motels are fine." To be honest, I was grateful. Those wonderfully decorated, romantic rooms only make me feel guilty and tense. I welcomed separate beds and itchy sheets that called for full, utterly un-sexual pajama's.

"You know, if we aren't going to make any stops, we might as well find an airport and book ourselves a flight to DC, then we'll be there in a matter of hours," He neutrally suggested.

And spend a week with glowing, beautiful, pregnant Hilde in DC, living up to the magic of childbirth? The mere thought upset my stomach. My trusty, rational mind readily supplied: "We are not going to leave this car at an airport somewhere. It's already damaged enough. When this is over I still have hope we can get some money back for this thing."

Duo chuckled and didn't argue with me. He probably didn't want to be in Washington sooner than planned either, knowing how hard that would be on me.

We drove the entire day, getting lunch and dinner at drive-thru's and peeing in the bushes lining the road, passing the hotel where Duo had made previous reservations. Duo talked and I listened with half an ear, staring at landmarks in the landscape as we speeded past, the wind messing up our hair and tugging at our shirts. At nightfall Duo stopped the car at the side of the road and while muttering and cursing he folded up the canvas roof to offer us some protection from the cooling wind that whipped across our faces.

Rather than getting back inside he squatted down next to the passenger door. "Maybe you can drive for a little bit, my eyes are kind of tired."

"Fine." Maybe some activity would keep my mind off things. I got out and walked around to the driver's side. I started the engine and laid my right hand on the stick. The flash of a memory overwhelmed me. Deafening laughter and the sensation of tears streaming down my face, Duo at my side, trying to teach we how to drive a stick, laughing with me as the car sputtered and jolted along the secluded road. I steeled myself and focused on driving the car.

Duo groaned, settling into his seat. "Feels good to rest for a bit."

I drove five miles under the speed limit as Duo dozed off in the passenger seat. I told myself I was just being cautious, because I wasn't used to driving this car. In reality, I had to own up to my childish attempt to postpone getting to Washington DC. I didn't want us to be late, I just didn't want us to be early either. I took a deep breath as I felt something welling up that I had aimed to suppress.

I had suffered so many injuries during the war, but no pain prepared me for scars I got during peacetime. I couldn't describe what it felt like. I had many examples to draw from, but falling off a building, setting my own leg and even self-destructing didn't compare to the pain of having everything my happiness is built upon be crushed.

I cast a sideway glance at Duo, fast asleep next to me. I could tell he was having a dream. Normally, he looked peaceful, but his expression was contorted into one of concern. I wondered what he was dreaming about. Lately that was all I had been wondering.

What was he dreaming?

What was he thinking?

What did he say to Hilde when he took the phone to the other room?

I couldn't help but worry that lately my name hadn't come up very often in his dreams, in his thoughts or in his conversations. Blame him, I could not. I knew this excitement, I knew the anticipation and I had a pretty good inkling what kind of dream could cause him to look so distraught. I just, selfishly, wished that I was a bigger part of his life. The way I used to be. The years when it had just been me and him seemed so desperately long ago.

Naturally, things get complicated when there's an extramarital child in the mix.

It was, however, an illusion to believe that we would be completely fine if not for Duo's slip-up with Hilde. Duo would have never sought comfort with her if I hadn't driven him away, right into her arms.

I lay my hand over my heart as it throbbed painfully. I told myself: let's just deal with one heart wrenching situation at a time.

When Duo's phone suddenly rang I nearly leaped out of my seat, but the seatbelt restrained me and held me in place. Duo was startled awake by the abrupt sound. Before he could reach over to answer it, I saw the name imposed onto the scenic screensaver: HILDE.

"Hilde!" He practically shouted before he even had the phone to his ear. He straightened up in his seat and brushed his hair out of his face. He looked flustered, he was probably as anxious as I was as soon as the name on the screen was recognized.

I adjusting my grip on the steering wheel, bothered by how sweaty my palms had instantly become. I could hear Hilde's voice through the phone but it was all incoherent. I only had Duo's side of the conversation to go by, which was more information than I would usually get. I understood that he wanted to keep things separated, he probably didn't want to hurt me nor Hilde, but it just made me feel shut out even more. I didn't know how to tell him that, I was very comfortable in the passive aggressive, detached state I was currently in. Being more involved would likely only mean more heartache.

"Well, we're making some headway, so we're probably going to be there a day sooner..." Duo shot a cautious look at me before he quietly asked: "How are you and the baby doing?"

The baby. I took a deep breath.

Duo's face contorted with unbridled distress. "Oh my God! You had to go to the hospital? What happened?"

I let out the shaky breath I had been holding as I felt myself become physically nauseous. My whole body was tense with anxiety. Being short of breath I started to pant. I could see my hands starting to tremble, rattling the rickety steering wheel.

"Are you okay? Is the baby okay?" Duo continued in his most worried tone of voice.

My chest started to hurt and I felt like I was about to vomit.

Realization hit me. I was having a panic attack. I had had one before, shortly after a similarly distressful phone call.

Afraid I was going to loose control over the car, I abruptly steered it into the grassy shoulder along the road. As soon as the car had come to a full stop I kicked the door open and pulled myself out of the seat. I could feel Duo's eyes on me as I walked around the front of the car, my hand over my stomach, walking further into the grassy field with shaky legs.

"Hilde, I'm sorry, I gotta go. I'll call you back." The passenger side door opened with a by then familiar creak and Duo chased me into the field, calling out my name.

I leaned forward and put my hands on my knees and threw up, not able to suppress the gag reflex any longer. What came out was mostly the water I had been drinking, as I hadn't had much to eat for dinner. My vomiting was quickly reduced to uncomfortable dry-heaving.

Duo had reached me and was stroking my back as I stood hunched over, saying my name over and over in a soothing but always apologetic tone.

I was done but I didn't want to straighten up and have him look at me. Not only had I soiled my chin but most embarrassingly I realized tears had been pouring out of my eyes uncontrollably. I finally asked him, with a voice that didn't even remotely resemble my own: "Do you have a tissue, or something?"

Of course he didn't. He took off his vest and offered me the sleeve.

"No, it's disgusting."

"I don't care, Heero, it's just a goddamned vest," he insisted.

Grumbling, I accepted it and cleaned my face. Feeling moderately confident that my mask was back in place I stood back up. I balled up the vest, wrapping it around the sleeve I had used and uncomfortably held it in my arms as I sucked in fresh air.

Duo's large hand caressed the back of my neck, fingers playing with hair at the nape. "Are you okay?" He asked softly.

I looked at him and noticed he seemed sick himself, sick with worry. I remembered the phone conversation that had started this all. "Is Hilde okay? Is... is the baby okay?"

Duo let out a deep breath. "They're fine. We don't need to talk about that right now, I just want you to be okay."

As it turned out, I sucked at being the cold soldier that I once truly was. I hated that. I hated being this mess. And I hated that I couldn't even blame Duo for all of it. That wasn't a very productive way of thinking, but I just found myself in that kind of headspace.

Feeling a little bit like myself again, I started walking back to the car.

Duo followed me, his hand on my back, trying to comfort me.

"Seriously, tell me. Why did she have to go to the hospital?"

"She went into false labor this afternoon, she thought it was premature labor so she had a friend drive her to the hospital. There's nothing to worry about, apparently. The doctor had told her that it was quite normal, she gave me a name for it, but I can't remember."

"Braxton Hicks?" I offered when we reached the car, looking down at the ground to avoid eye contact.

"Yeah, that's right... Nicky had those too, right?"

"Yeah," I answered morosely.

He stepped forward and gave me a hug. He was apprehensive at first, but when it was clear I wasn't going to pull away, he tightened the embrace and buried his nose in my hair. "I'm so sorry about this. I know this brings back a lot of bad memories." He pulled back and made me look him in the eye. His expression was sincere, but wrought with troubled feelings. "I want- I need you to know that I haven't forgotten. And I especially need you to know that I haven't stopped caring. Or that this baby I'm having with Hilde is a replacement." He casually ran a finger by the corner of his eye and offered me a small smile, wanting to be the strong one.

I slowly nodded. I really didn't want to talk about it.

I felt exhausted and drained and it must have been apparent. Duo suggested that we should find the nearest motel and call it a day. He opened the passenger side door for me and walked around to take the wheel.

We stopped at the first motel we came across and hauled our stuff inside. The air in the room was dry and musty. The wallpaper in the bedroom had yellowed and the corners were peeling. The tiles of the impossibly small bathroom were stained. Two single beds were pushed together and covered with an ugly patchwork bed spread, to pass as a double bed. It definitely wasn't the kind of room that expected to see any kind of romance.

Good.

I went into the bathroom to wash up. In the bedroom, Duo verbally expressed how disgusting the sheets were. Luckily, he had brought two sleeping bags along, he revealed and he left briefly to go get them out of the trunk of the car. I started pulling off the motel sheets. They were not dirty, but I estimated them to be older than we were - combined - and for this reason I certainly would not have enjoyed sleeping under them.

We rolled the two sleeping bags onto the beds and started to undress quietly. We sat on the edge of our respective beds, our backs turned towards each other. With my own panic attack in the past, it dawned on me how upsetting Hilde's phone call must have been to Duo, before she managed to relay the doctor's positive information. He must have been feeling many of the same things I was. It was selfish not to acknowledge that, just because it was hurtful for me to address anything that revolved around his baby with Hilde. With my back still turned towards him, I said softly: "I'm really sorry about freaking out just now. You must have been worried sick about the baby when Hilde called and I just totally drowned that out with my overreacting."

The bed creaked and the mattresses shifted as Duo turned around to face me. I didn't dare to look back at him.

"You weren't overreacting," he assured me. "And I was worried, but Hilde was quick to tell me everything was fine, so if anything, I should apologize to you. For keeping you out of the loop."

"It's probably for the better," I had come to realize. "I thought I would want to be included, but I know now that that would just make things ever harder." I nervously fumbled with the loose fabric of my sweatpants.

"Whatever you want, I'll do. And whatever you want, you are free to do. You can be as involved as you are ready for." He paused lengthily, then added: "I do want you to be part of this, but I know you need time. This situation puts a lot on your plate."

Done with the emotional turmoil that the conversation was awakening in me, I reminded him flatly: "You promised Hilde you would call back."

He took a deep breath, I could feel him staring at me. "Yeah. You're right." He stood up and grabbed his phone. "Do you want me to stay here or do you want me to go outside?"

Since he was already in his nightwear, I couldn't very well demand him to stand outside in the cold. "Stay inside. I'm going to brush my teeth anyway." I took my toiletries into the bathroom with me and closed the door. But even the shut door and the sound of me furiously scrubbing my teeth could not drown out Duo's hushed voice. More often than not, I found my toothbrush hanging limp between my lips, listening to his words.

"No, we just had a little situation. We had to pull over.-... I'm glad to hear you and the baby are fine.-... And those false contractions don't mean that you might go into labor soon?-... Good. Okay.-... Yes, of course I'm being sincere. Of course I want to be there for the birth.-... Yes, I am considering your feelings in all of this, but this is really hard on Heero and I have to be sensitive to that. You must understand how difficult this is for him.-... I've hurt him enough, I won't hurt him again. He is my priority.-... I'm sorry, Hilde, I'm sorry. That's just the way it is. You and I are having a baby but Heero and I are married.-... I already love this baby and in a way, I love you too, but Heero is... Heero and," Duo's voice noticeably changed as he swore. "Fuck."

It sounded like he was crying and that wrenched my heart.

"I'm never going to love anybody more than him, Hilde. The thought that I have made him question that is killing me and I can't have that happen again. If I lose him... I am nothing. I wouldn't even be able to be a father, I would just be broken and lost. So please, respect that I am devoted to him."

By then I had abandoned my toothbrush and had my ear pressed up against the door. Hilde must have been talking, because I didn't hear anything for a while until I heard Duo say:

"I'm sorry, Hilde. I'm sorry about all of it."

Then I heard the sharp beep of the line being disconnected. I leaned my forehead against the door, overwhelmed by the rawness and sincerity of Duo's voice. Of course I knew that he still loved me, I could see it in his eyes whenever he looked at me. But it was a different thing to have him spell it out to his ex, who was currently pregnant with his much anticipated child. I knew his words must have felt like stabs to Hilde - I had figured she still had feelings for him - but to me they were a kindness that I had been longing for.

Duo's words offered me little reassurance. I didn't know what would happen once we would get to DC and Duo would witness the birth of his child and watch as he or she slept in the arms of his or her mother - a woman who Duo had loved once and one no one could blame him for loving once more. But at least, in that secluded moment, I got to feel like I was still the most important person in Duo's life, the one worth everything to him and I happily got drunk on that feeling.

I quietly opened the bathroom door. My eyes landed on his slumped form, sitting on the edge of the bed, his gaze cast at the trampled carpet. I crossed the room barefoot, barely audible and kneeled in front of him, searching for his gaze. We exchanged heavily burdened looks, but for one night I agreed to let hope spark between us. Not enough to start a fire to warm our hearts and expel every frigid trace of grief and torment, but enough for me to just love him and for one night have his warm hands cradle those frostbitten parts of me so they wouldn't sting so much with bitter cold.

Caught up in the moment I pressed our mouths together with evident desperation. I could taste the salt of his spilt tears on his lips. He kissed me back, tentatively at first, then fervently, recognizing that the moment had to be savored. After tonight it might leave and never come back.

His hands cupped my face, his thumbs stroking my cheeks. With his tongue he eased my lips apart and engaged my own in battle.

It was hot and reminiscent of a time long ago. We both welcomed the memory as a new, albeit brief present reality.

My hands ran up his thighs and slipped underneath his long-sleeved shirt to stroke his abdomen and chest.

Duo urged me up off the floor. He lay back on the bed and pulled me down on top of him. His hands abandoned my face to trail down my sides and then strongly grip my behind, crushing our pelvises together. We were both aroused, more because it had been so long than the actual stimulation; we were all over the place, first kissing each other's mouth, then necks and our hands constantly wandering with no sense of purpose or direction.

Duo scooted further up the bed and pulled me along. We lay on our sides, facing each other, haphazardly kissing and caressing while we rocked our hips together, our bodies desperately searching some kind of completion. It had been too long for either of us to be able to last to a stage that involved lube. Our sweatpants were easily pushed down to our thighs and we emitted pleasant moans when our erections touched.

I feared that any moment feelings would flood me, that I would become aware of all past pains and present concerns and self-doubt and I would pull away scorned. But that never happened. I continued to accept his kisses, momentarily blissfully ignorant as all cerebral processes were overwritten with pure, physical desire.

We rubbed our dicks together, more like teenagers experimenting for the first time than the experienced lovers that we were, but that alien sense of novelty only fuelled the heat.

"I love you so much," he said, his lips brushing mine as he talked.

I recognized his tone of voice; in a past life I had heard it often enough. He was close to orgasm. "I love you too," I replied, the same kind of urgency in my tone.

We came in complete unison, arching our backs and thrusting towards each other one final time. We soiled our hands, the mattress and our shirts but with shaky breaths we chuckled.

Duo wrapped his hand around both our dicks - as much as he could - and stroked them together leisurely as the wave of climax slowly subsided. With a lopsided smile he breathed: "I love coming with you."

I groaned, not with pleasure, but with pain. A sudden pain in my chest. As soon as he said that, the moment was broken, the shards of it laying scattered on the floor. As soon as he said that, I wondered bitterly: as much as you love coming with Hilde?

Duo kissed my forehead. For a moment longer I let him be oblivious, because I knew how painful it was to have that blissful ignorance come to an end and I didn't want to subject him to that just yet.

I rolled onto my back and stared up at the cracked ceiling. I wondered if we were ever again going to have more than just fleeting moments, when in DC he will have a relationship that lasts a lifetime. One that I had nothing to do with, but Hilde everything.


	6. Chapter Six

**Loneliest Road**

**Chapter 6**

_\- Roads cross distances; roads cross canyons; roads cross rivers. The only insurmountable distance exists between people, if they let it. -_

**AC 206**

"Good morning," Duo chirps as he re-enters the motel room where we had spent the night.

I cast a glance over my shoulder and returned his greeting unenthusiastically. Then I asked him: "Where did you go? You weren't here when I woke up."

It seemed it was only then Duo recognized his mistake. "I'm sorry," he apologized genuinely. "I thought I should score us some breakfast. This motel only has a vending machine." He proudly held up a plastic bag and a cardboard tray with two to-go cups of coffee. "Found a gas station a few miles out though." He set it down on the small desk in the corner of the room and started unpacking prepackaged sandwiches. "I got turkey, chicken, tomato and mozzarella and... another chicken. Oh and that yogurt drink that you like with the lime."

His victorious and upbeat demeanor was endearing. I found it to be infectious even. I got up after tying my shoes and joined him at the 'buffet'. We both chose a sandwich and ripped off the plastic cover, digging into our pre-made breakfast and washing it down with strong, scalding hot coffee.

"You should have seen the looks I got at the pump. Everyone was checking out my ride," he winked playfully.

"It is quite an unusual sight," I retorted matter-of-factly, carefully sipping my coffee.

"I bet they were all jealous."

"I bet they all pitied you," I teased with a little grin.

Duo smiled at me. "You seem to be in a better mood," he cautiously noted.

I shrugged. Sometimes it was just easier to forget than other times. I couldn't really explain it. But I knew it wouldn't be long until I would once again be the scorned, raving bastard that I had become in the face of all of this. I didn't like being that person and I never thought I would become that person, but as Duo brought out the best in me, he was also capable of bringing out the worst in me. "I guess the sandwich is just that good," I joked lightheartedly.

Duo smirked and leaned in closer. "And here I thought last night was just 'that good'."

I had expected him to bring it up. I had been dreading it all night, staring up at the ceiling. I didn't know yet how I felt about it - Duo seemed to think that everything was okay now - although I did recognize it had been a big leap forward for us. I was mostly left with a detached realization that it hadn't been enough to reunite us and the daunting question of what would. Yet, on a physical level, I had to agree: "Last night was good." We both had physical needs that had been denied for a long time. It did feel as a relief to have them fulfilled, however briefly that sense of relief may last. For this reason I knew Duo was not the sole person to blame for what happened between him and Hilde and how it affected our relationship. For many years I had to work to accept the fact that I was only a human - an imperfect being. I did not yet know how much harder it was to acknowledge and accept that the love of my life is only human too, prone to mistakes. It was a lesson recently learned, one I had not yet learned to appropriately deal with.

I didn't know yet if it was last night, the sandwich, or the yogurt drink he had attentively thought to bring me, but that morning the knowledge and confrontation of imperfection seemed a little less harsh, in the warm glow of the sun.

"It was," he hid a grimace behind his paper cup of coffee, not because he was being insincere, but because given the circumstances it was inevitable to travel down a certain memory lane. "We have a long, dull day ahead of us. I figured we should be able to make it to Missouri by nightfall, if we put the pedal to the metal, but it's going to a long haul." He produced the old-fashioned road map and spread it out over the small desk. "Right now we are here."

I stared down at where his finger touched the map, just west of the intersection with the US-83. My eyes trailed the highway to the Kansas-Missouri state border. We had crossed about half the distance between San Francisco and Washington, getting further and further ahead of schedule. The map was dotted with red - things Duo had planned for us to see. We had sped by nearly all of them. I regretted the fact that I hadn't been able to hide my emotions better. A few more visits to museums or roadside oddities and I would have had Duo to myself for a few days longer. But that rational way of thinking had been forsaking me lately and there was no point to dwell on yet another mistake I've made. Or was it even a mistake? How comfortable could it be to prolong this process?

"It's all level and rural landscape, there is not going to be much to see, that is why I picked up... this!" From the plastic bag that I had thought to have been emptied out, he extracted a music USB-drive in obnoxiously colorful packaging. "I asked if they sold those old music CD's, because I wanted something classic to go with our classic ride, but no luck. However, they did have this one. 'Four hours of the best of PC disco music!'" He read aloud off the back of the drive.

I glared at it.

"Come on, it'll be fun."

"I don't even know any pre-colonial music..." I commented with a displeased frown.

"In that case hold your judgment until you've heard some. The Sweeper crew used to play this shit all the time, drove me crazy! Man, this is going to be awesome!" He walked off screeching what I presumed to be the lyrics of one of those old songs.

I shook my head at his antics and finished my breakfast, then we both set to packing our bags and rolling up our sleeping bags to continue our journey.

After four hours of music accompanied by the intentionally off-key vocals of Duo, the drive became eerily silent. Although the music had not been my taste, I did welcome the distraction and with Duo clearly enjoying himself, I had felt more at ease. For four hours at the very least I didn't have to worry about what he might be thinking. That privilege had sadly run out.

Duo fumbled with the radio, trying to a find a station to his liking.

I watched the landscape. The tarmac cut through endless patches of wheat and grassy paddocks, dotted with lazy cows. Duo had gotten all excited when he had spotted an actual cowboy, crossing through the grassland on horseback, chasing a black cow that had separated itself from the rest of the herd as it was corralled to the gate. All I could think was that the cows were likely being led to slaughter.

We had finished the other sandwiches Duo had brought that morning but at two o'clock he decided he wanted a real lunch and promptly turned the old car into the parking lot of diner, adjoined to the gas station, right by the highway. I went ahead to find us a booth while Duo maneuvered the car through the gas station to get the tank filled up, just in case the next station was another long way ahead.

A bell above the door chimed as I entered. Busy as the single present waitress was, she greeted me as she passed me by with a pot of steaming coffee to serve two gentlemen in Stetsons at a table by the door. Conveniently the booth in the corner just vacated, the patrons walking past me. I claimed their seats and organized the cups and dishes to make the waitress' job a little easier.

"Hey there, doll," she said jovially as she gathered the dishes on her tray.

At the nickname a shiver ran down my spine. A distant memory overcame me. A deep, gravelly voice growled the word in my ear in a demanding way. It was so real - I could even feel his breath - I almost looked over, expecting him to be there.

"Are you here all by yourself, sweety?"

"No," I simply answered.

"Can I get you something to drink while you wait and look over the menu?"

"Two black coffees please."

She smiled. "Coming right up, doll."

I nodded and watched her leave. As my eyes followed her they spotted Duo coming in. I waved him over.

"Best seats in the house," Duo commented as he slid into the seat across from me. He reached for the menu propped up against the wall. "Have you already decided?"

"I'm not hungry." I had been a moment ago, but I knew better than most how quickly things could change.

"You sure?"

"Yeah..."

He looked at me with a slight, pensive frown. He might have been about to say something when the waitress returned.

"Hi there! Wow, what mighty fine hair you have! Two black coffee." She placed the cups in front of us. "Have you two dolls made up your mind?"

"Yes," Duo was quick to answer with his ever polite smile. "We would both like the burger with the side of French fries."

"Good choice! We make a hell of a burger here! It's a little busy though, I hope you dolls don't mind."

"Not at all. I guess we would like a coke with that order though."

"Sure thing!" She scribbled down our orders and then spun on her heels and trotted off.

He chuckled at her. "She's nice."

"I told you I wasn't hungry."

"I know you did. I'm also pretty sure I know why you've lost your appetite and I know it's not worth it." with a softer voice he added: "Just try to eat something. Maybe if you take a bite or two you'll get your appetite back."

I ignored him and took a sip of coffee.

He sighed and leaned back. After a long, thoughtful pause, he said: "I'm guessing last night wasn't as amazing as you let me think this morning."

I cupped the warm mug in my hands, staring down into the black liquid. "It felt really good," I started, looking up at him with honest eyes. "But one night of intimacy cannot bridge the distance that is between us."

"At least tell me it means there is progress," he pleaded, "That the bridge is under construction?"

"I like to think it is," I replied pathetically.

"But?" He correctly interpreted.

"But..." I chewed on my lower lip. "But we can't deny that the steady presence of Hilde and this baby is eroding the pillars. I'm afraid that if we do get to complete this bridge and we come together, it's just going to collapse under our feet."

Duo reached out his hands and wrapped them around my own. His expression was one of heartfelt pain. "What are you afraid of? Is it just the fact that I'm having a baby with her, or is there more that you fear?"

I sighed and looked away. My eyes searched for the waitress, I desperately wanted her to interrupt our conversation.

"Are you afraid I'm in love with Hilde? That I am going to leave you for her?"

"And the baby..." I softly added. I wasn't just competing with Hilde, I was competing with a child. Their child. And as awful as it sounded, it did feel like a competition. One that I feared I would lose. How do you compete with a child? His flesh, his blood.

"I don't feel anything romantic for Hilde. I chose you. I choose you," he stated firmly. "You know that."

I finally looked up at him with challenging eyes. "I also know that once you thought Hilde was the love of your life and then you left her for me." My voice was accusing. "I show up on your doorstep one day and you realize that it is me you love after all and you just decide to choose me over her. How can I ever be sure that history will not repeat itself in reverse? Especially considering the situation. How can I ever be sure that you won't suddenly realize you love her instead of me and go back to her?"

His hands retreated, he seemed scorned. He shook his head. For a moment there were no words, he just crossed his arms in front of his chest and stubbornly looked to the side. Eventually he made some sort of frustrated gesture and shot back with angry eyes: "I can't believe you are throwing this in my face. I can't believe you are using this against me, against my love for you."

I was a little taken aback. He had been angry with me since before he confessed what had happened between Hilde and him, not giving himself the right.

"Me leaving her for you should show you just how much you mean to me, not make you question it. I did love her, Heero, she was my best friend. I loved her as a friend and that confused me, made me think that maybe that was what romantic love was, so I agreed to be with her. Because with the way you were, closed off and cold, nothing was ever going to happen between us, because you never let me in! Then, after all those years - after all those years of not forgetting about you, constantly thinking of you, pondering the "what-if's" - you show up on my doorstep saying all the things I had always dreamed of you saying and then you kissed me..." He paused, in his eyes swirled a myriad of emotions he could barely contain. "I realized that what I felt for you, was what true love felt like. And for the first time it seemed like you would let me love you and you could love me back. All of a sudden the perfect "what-if" was happening. I realized I loved you so much and needed to be with you so badly, that I had no choice but to break my best friend's heart. It crushed me to do that to her, to leave her like that, but I did it because I was and still am so overwhelmingly in love with you."

He reached out again for my hands, prying them from the coffee mug so he could entwine our fingers. "I didn't all of a sudden stop loving her and start loving you. I always loved you. I always wanted to be with you and that hasn't changed," he assured me, looking deep into my eyes. "This," he vaguely gestured around himself, "is not another one of those perfect what-ifs. This was a mistake, a horrible mistake, one that we all struggle to deal with. Having a baby with Hilde, endangering my relationship with you, is not the perfect what-if. The perfect what-if would have been me never leaving you to be with Hilde in the first place, because of misinterpreted feelings. The perfect what-if would have been me not seeking comfort with Hilde that night and letting things get out of control. The perfect what-if would have been Nicky not miscarrying."

I let out a single sob but was instantly comforted by his hands gripping mine tighter, like he was steadying me; supporting me.

"I never wonder what my life would have been like if I had stayed with Hilde. Because I know that is not what I want. And even with this baby in the picture, I can confidently promise you that in the future I will never wonder what my life would be like if I left you to be with Hilde and the baby. All I ever wanted and ever will want is just to be with you. And I am deeply sorry for how complicated I have made that, and how hard I have made it for you to believe that."

"I'm sorry," I blurted.

"For what?" Duo asked worriedly.

"For being an asshole all this time," I admitted with an exasperated chuckle. "For making this even more difficult than it already is."

Duo squeezed my hands firmly again. His smile was kind and open, the way I remember it always being. "I don't want you to be sorry. You have every right to be angry and you have every right to give me a hard time. I want you to, because I don't want you to shut yourself off. I don't want you to internalize your anger and torture yourself with it. I understand that for me to able to earn back your trust, you need to test my resolve. As long as it means you are giving us a chance, I'm okay with you being an asshole."

"Good. Because I think I'm not through yet."

We shared a quiet, breathless laugh.

The waitress came with our late lunches. "There you go. Best burgers in Kansas."

"They sure look great!" Duo smiled at the waitress.

"Enjoy!" She walked off to serve another customer.

I stared down at the plate. I still wasn't hungry, but now because of our discussion and not the memory that the nickname had triggered. Still, I'd rather not face the wrath of my overprotective husband and attempted a few bites. Soon enough my bodily urges overrode my psychological issues and I attacked the burger. I caught Duo smiling at me and stuck my tongue out at him. The atmosphere between us became relaxed, which was both novel and familiar. It had been a long time since we last just enjoyed each other's company. The calm that settled in my body was a nice change from the tension I had been experiencing. I relaxed into the seat, stretching my legs out under the table. My right lower leg ended up against Duo's left leg. I would have changed position, but then I realized I didn't want to and instead shifted my other leg to touch his. It was a strange comfort, but a comfort nonetheless, to touch him so casually.

Duo grinned at me. "This is the best burger in Kansas."

I snorted and pointed out: "This is the first burger you've had in Kansas."

"Still, I can tell it's the best. Nothing is ever going to top this."

I chewed thoughtfully. I wasn't all that impressed, honestly. "How so?"

"Because we are having it on the bridge. For the first time coming closer together."

I didn't respond, not knowing what to say, but fearing that anything I would say would only ruin the moment, make me second guess his statement. Instead, I decided to enjoy it, whether it be true or not. For him to feel that way and to say so, felt like a victory.

We finished our burgers and our drinks and the waitress came to clear the table and give us the check.

"Did you two dolls enjoy your burgers?" She wondered kindly when she came to collect the money - including a generous tip.

"We sure did. Best in Kansas!" Duo answered.

"Thank you! Have a safe trip!"

Duo led me back to the mint green monstrosity parked just beyond the gas station. "Do you want to talk about it?" He inquired.

Knowing what he was referring to, I shook my head. I didn't want to think about Hendrik and my time with him. The day had been going so well, relatively. I didn't want bad memories to spoil it, even though I knew they eventually would. There is just no keeping something so powerful at bay.

"I don't mind listening," he told me, trying to encourage me to share.

This I knew to be a lie. He hated hearing about it. At his insistence I told him the entire story, just once, a long time ago. His fists had been clenched and his knuckles white the whole time. WuFei later informed me that afterwards Duo had tried to locate Hendrik through WuFei's Preventer connections. It had been several years ago, when our anger and our soldier instincts were still, at times, beyond our conscious control. He had intended to find him and kill him. Since WuFei had confided in me that Duo had attempted to do this, I never dared speak of Hendrik again to Duo. I wanted to protect him from that rage, from that part of himself.

"I mind talking," I replied. My tone left no room for argument.

He just nodded and got in the car.

Of course the damage had been done. Not even a reprieve of the pre-colonial disco music with its careless lyrics and up-tempo beats could sufficiently distract from darkly shaded thoughts and memories.

In many ways I owed Hendrik my gratitude, but that was too rational even for me. I didn't know if something other than my relationship with him could have awoken me from my apathetic state that had served as a lifelong safety blanket, sometimes I think maybe not.

I wondered if that was something Duo ever gave any thought. He talked about his perfect "what-if" moment. "What if Heero shows up on my doorstep one day, open and ready?". I did. I showed up on his doorstep. Did it ever occur to him that I might not have been standing there if Hendrik hadn't drove me into that direction? It was a frightening thought, that sometimes, it takes something bad to lead you to something good. That sounded so ominous and daunting. It made it seem like maybe the bad would never be through, there would always be more, as an entry fee to the promised land.

For me it posed the question: Is Duo having a baby with Hilde the bad thing that will lead to the better, to us getting closer together? Or is the bad Duo leaving me to be with Hilde and the baby and if so, what good could possibly come from that?

I blinked when I noticed the music suddenly being turned down low. I looked at Duo with an unspoken question in my eyes.

"Just checking in," he said casually. "You've been so quiet. Don't tell me you are actually paying attention to the music." He chuckled warmly.

"I've just been thinking."

"Yeah?" He replied with sarcastic surprise. "Could you put me out of my misery and share?"

"It's nothing important. Not now at least." Rather than give him ample time to present me with more worried inquiries, I offered: "I could drive for a while, you know? You look tired."

He seemed to take his time thinking it over, then he flicked on the indicator lights and steered the car onto the broad dirt shoulder of the quiet highway. He looked at me and smiled. "Thanks."

"No problem." We switched seats and I punched the gas, continuing to follow the long stretch of bland tarmac. I should have offered to switch turns earlier. Duo needed the rest and I could use the distraction.

"It drives pretty smoothly, doesn't it?"

"It's too slow," I remarked.

"Well, an old engine like this one just doesn't produce the kind of horse power that can compete with modern vehicles, but it's fast enough and the parts are holding up nicely. Unlike your predictions," he grinned.

"We aren't in Washington yet," I reminded him matter-of-factly.

"No, you're right, I shouldn't jinx it."

I found it childish and misguided to believe that we could have any semblance of control over the odds of something happening or something not happening by avoiding a "jinx". Yet I forgave Duo this naivety, because I found it remarkably uplifting and even necessary, after all these years of being with him, to be around someone who could believe in something that defied all logic. It was a sweet promise to think that someday even I could get to a place like that, whether or not it ever came true. And once – if - I would get there, I would no longer think of it as childish, I would just enjoy it.

Without realizing it, I smiled at him.

Duo seemed caught off guard by this display of cheerfulness which left him in disbelief. "Are you smiling?"

"Yes," I replied, already feeling the smile melting away, but the memory of it was warm. Another promise.

"Why?"

I shrugged, hesitant to get into the matter. "I don't want to jinx it," I said. It was not the true explanation, but the smile I received in return made it worth the leap.

I counted the miles as we travelled along the tarmac strip that snaked through the landscape. Duo was asleep beside me, his shoulder leaning against the door panel as he sat sagged in his seat, the seatbelt desperately clutching at him to keep him from slipping to the floor. His breathing was loud, but you couldn't call it a snore, it sounded more like relieved sighs, over and over again.

I missed him, I admitted to myself. It was a difficult confession to reconcile, after all, he was right there, how could I miss someone that is sitting right there, whom I could touch with a mere reach of my arm? But he wasn't Duo, not the Duo I fell in love with, not the Duo that kept me going. Burdened by guilt and regret he was a cautious, dim reflection of himself. All he could do was fake his former brightness, cheerfulness, carefreeness and positivity, but the shadow that clung to these imposters betrayed them. This Duo was reserved, frightened and ill with concern. I wasn't sure if that was his own fault – because he was the one who decided to cheat – or my fault, because I was the immense and immovable figure that blocked the sun and cast those very shadows onto him, onto us and as such onto myself. I was the one who had his back turned to the light and forced this darkness upon us incessantly. I had no way of knowing if this lingering and wallowing of mine was justified, but just or not, I truly felt I could not be moved from this spot, my feet were anchored in rock bottom. Duo had been tugging at me for months now and I was still right there, full of fear and full of resentment, as much towards Duo and towards Hilde as towards myself.

I had to wonder if maybe I was this immovable because, in my own dark and twisted way, I felt comfortable and secure, right where I was. As horrible as it was, rock bottom was solid, the foundation of my being, the only place where I could ever trust my footing to be firm. To climb means to risk falling all over again. Who knows what will be broken next time I crash?

How had I ever even survived this fall? Maybe I had never gotten as high – as far up from rock bottom – as I had believed. Maybe I had always been broken, had never been fixed and what, really, is the difference in being shattered into tens of thousands or hundreds of thousands pieces? Broken is broken.

* * *

**Early AC 198**

My relationship with Hendrik was a strange one.

I realized that that wasn't much of a distinguishing description, coming from me – all my relationships were of a strange kind as I, having a social mind that I had come to aptly perceive as twisted and diseased, experienced them as utterly alien and unpredictable, unnatural interactions. In my life I had felt a much more comfortable and understanding relationship with machines. Machines are mathematical and as such, for me, comprehendible, predictable and… friendly. I knew what to expect from them; certain variables had set results. This made the relationship easy.

Humans were very different. The input of similar variables yielded very different results between people.

Hendrik was most mysterious and confusing of all, I suspected intentionally so, but that, at best, intrigued me, where it should have warned me. I was eager to learn and to understand and who best to study than the subject who was most challenging? I was too arrogant to start at the novice level of socializing and test my skill on the open and honest Alex, from the diner. I figured, if I could teach myself to understand Hendrik, I would be able to understand anybody. A rational but deceptive belief, as rationality rarely applies on human behavior and even less so on human emotion.

I spent many nights at the bar scrutinizing my study subject. Eventually I managed to recognize that this amused him. In hindsight I suspected because this, to him, affirmed how good he was at the art of deception and secrecy. And he gloated in my face without my knowing.

Momentarily it seemed he had forgotten our conversation where he admitted to the desire of wanting more than friendship, as he didn't act on it for about two weeks. Unfamiliar with protocol, I didn't bring up the matter. I just waited to see what he would do or say. Unwittingly, I surrendered all control to him. He was always in charge. I just didn't notice.

When he finally proposed a date, it came as a surprise. More amusement on his behalf. I agreed neutrally. I didn't care. There was nothing in my life I enjoyed, so why not join him for one evening? There was no sacrifice involved.

So then there we were, in a small, Amsterdam restaurant with modern furnishing, well-spoken waiters and fancily dressed clientele that threw disproving glances over the edge of their champagne flutes at my jeans and simple button-up shirt as the host led us to a table in the back, where the light was dim, the ceiling low and candles flickered and created shadows within the petals of each single rose on each small table.

"Here you guy, mister Schuyler, your regular table," the host spoke in haughty Dutch.

"Thank you, Wilhelm." Hendrik was polite but seemed to be paying no attention to the man whatsoever, his eyes were on me – always on me – and they were focused and intense and seemed to be communicating some hidden meaning that was far beyond my reach of understanding.

I had long noted that the establishment seemed more expensive than a bartender at a not particularly successful or busily visited bar could afford, but made no remark. It was clearly futile, we were there, so I must have been mistaken to think it was out of his price range.

"Would you like to order drinks while you look over the menu?" The host inquired once we were seated at the table in the corner, across from each other.

"Bring us a bottle of red wine," Hendrik answered, without asking if that was okay with me.

It didn't matter, I didn't care.

"Certainly sir, any wine in particular that you desired to enjoy this evening?"

"Just bring us something old and expensive. This is a special occasion."

"Will do, sir. Might I inquire about the nature of this special occasion?"

Never did Hendrik's eyes disconnect from mine. "This is our first of many dates."

I didn't understand what was so special about that, but did acknowledge his assertion that there would be more and that it seemed I had no say in the matter. I wasn't bothered, I didn't care.

"Well, let's hope you will greatly enjoy this date and all dates to come." The host handed us leather-bound menu's that in turn were handed to him by a waiter at his side. "This is Raymond, he will be your waiter for the evening. Enjoy your meal." He excused himself and returned to his post at the front of the restaurant.

While the waiter was sent to fetch our "old and expensive" red wine, we looked over the menus.

It was almost weird to no longer have Hendrik's eyes on me. I had become accustomed to the unnerving feeling and strangely it felt even more unnerving to not have him look at me.

"I think I'll have the steak," he noted absentmindedly. "What about you?"

I hadn't been paying much attention to the menu, I didn't care about what I ate, there was nothing I really liked, nor was there anything I really disliked. Food was nutrition, a basic need and as such should not be made overly complicated by a wide range of choices, I thought. "I don't know."

He looked up at me, his eyes unreadable but with a glint to them. "You should have the duck. The duck is really good."

The waiter returned and poured us our wine, then asked politely if we had come to a decision.

"I'll have the steak."

"And you, sir?" The waiter asked me as he accepted my menu.

"The duck," I replied without much thought. I directed my gaze back at Hendrik and noticed his pleased smirk. What that meant, I did not know.

* * *

**AC 206**

That was how it started; an innocent suggestion that I acted on out of my own disinterest and lack of preference. He was quick to assert more privileges and more control. The next time we went out to dinner, he ordered for me, and every time after that. I wasn't alarmed. Why should I insist on making my own choices - a decision-making process that was reduced to a simple at-random procedure – when apparently someone else does have a preference? If I didn't care but he wanted me to have the duck, why not just have the duck? And the duck turned out to be delicious, even though I couldn't really appreciate it at that stage of my emotional and personal development.

Unfortunately, his other suggestions that I thoughtlessly agreed to turned out to leave a filthy taste in my mouth that still lingered on my palate and, when I focused on it, could still make me nauseous.

With Duo still asleep in the passenger seat and the absence of surrounding traffic, I sunk back into memories.

* * *

**Early AC 198**

"Mind the step," Hendrik warned as we approached the front door to his loft.

We had climbed up steel staircases in what appeared to be an old warehouse in a former industrial area that has been encompassed by the ever expanding city. The warehouses and factories had been remodeled to function as apartment buildings and in spite of their rugged outer appearance I got the impression that the loft that was about to be revealed to me was quite costly.

He swiped his keycard and a light flashed green. With physical strain he pushed the steel, riveted, sliding door open to reveal an echoing darkness.

"Home sweet home," he said slyly and his voice traveled through the door opening and reverberated off what sounded like bare stone walls. He stepped inside and flicked on the overhead lights.

The space was enormous. The apartment was one open space, with high ceilings, supported by steel beams. The walls were red brick work, the floor was poured concrete. Persian rugs and animal hides were strewn about, centered in the living area, under the dining table and around the bed. All furniture was old, solid wood and worn brown leather with lighter discolorations in the seats. The kitchen was modern with black, glossy cabinets and a large island, the kitchen counter was dense, polished concrete. The large television was suspended from the ceiling. In the corner there was a lot of technical equipment; stereo-installation and cameras and microphones and a whole bay of computers that piqued my interest, being an established hacker. The large bed with massive wooden legs and headboard was in the center, covered with shimmery, white, satin sheets.

"What do you think?"

I gave it some thought, then decided on: "It looks manly."

He chuckled deeply. "I approve of that assessment."

I didn't even know I needed his approval. I wouldn't discover that until later, after ignoring many warning signs.

"Do you like my set-up?" He nodded at the desk and computer monitors.

I nodded, my look of interest had not gone unnoticed. "What do you use it for?"

"Work," he answered curtly, with a crooked grin.

How bartending involved intensive computer work was lost on me.

"I'll get you something to drink."

I watched him walk over to the kitchen and rip open the stainless steel door of the large American style refrigerator. He brought over two bottles of beer, twisting off the cap for me.

I took a large drink and then waited expectantly for guidance. I hadn't really understood why he had invited me to come home with him after our date – I think it was the fourth. Perhaps he sought privacy to kiss me, he hadn't kissed me yet. I assumed this to be unorthodox, after all, Duo kissed me as soon as he had made clear to me that he had always seen me as more than a friend, the way Hendrik wanted our relationship to be. I concluded that kissing and other kinds of physical intimacy were a pivotal aspect of "more than friends". It was confusing that Hendrik once more defied my logic. If there were any rules, I was starting to suspect that Hendrik chose not to play by them.

"I can almost hear the wheels turning in your head," Hendrik bemusedly commented.

"What?"

"Tell me what you were thinking about."

"Why I'm here."

"Understandable. I did not bring you here for reasons you may suspect. I didn't ask you to come home with me to have sex with you."

I hadn't even considered that it would go that far, but wasn't put off by it. I didn't care.

"Dating is all about getting to know someone. I wanted to introduce you to my hobby. I wanted to show you and involve you, rather than tell you." He walked to the corner and grabbed a camera from the desk. He held it up demonstratively. "My hobby is photography and film-making. I like capturing beautiful things," he looked at me hungrily, "and you are decidedly the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. To not immortalize your beauty would be blasphemous to my craft."

Clearly he intended to persuade me to participate in his hobby. There was no need. The war was over, I didn't care if someone wanted to take my picture or not. I couldn't understand what kind of enjoyment he would get out of it, but since it left me utterly indifferent, why not go along with it?

He seemed to recognize my willingness. A smile spread across his lips and he gestured towards the large, leather couch. "Sit down."

I did as I was told, sitting stiffly on the soft cushion.

"Relax."

I couldn't, my body was always tense, but I feigned relaxation by leaning back, making myself more comfortable. I stared at him, waiting for further instruction or for him to shoot the picture.

He brought the camera up to his face and I heard the shutter several times and the whir of the lens as he zoomed in further and further. "Take your shirt off. You must have a beautiful body."

I shrugged and moved to unbutton my shirt.

"Slowly," he instructed.

I heard the repetitive clicking as I popped one button after another and then slipped the fabric off my shoulders. It seemed like an unusual request to me, but I had no understanding of his hobby and what was and wasn't an unusual request. Since hobbies make people happy, I didn't want to make him unhappy by being uncooperative because I didn't understand what this hobby entailed.

He came closer to me and sat down on the coffee table, only two feet away. Half of his face was covered by the camera as he kept it pointed at me. He reached out his free hand and brushed haphazard bangs out of my eyes with a delicate touch and then moved to cup my face, tilting it slightly. He ran his thumb along my lower lip. Meanwhile the sound of the shutter was continuous.

Suddenly there was silence. He placed the camera on the coffee table and inched forward to the edge. He leaned in towards me.

I knew he was going to kiss me and I waited curiously, wondering if it would have the same effect on me as Duo's kiss.

He suddenly halted in his approach, freezing mere inches away from me, throwing me off like he always did. His gaze was confidant and matched by a small smirk.

My eyebrows twitched at the confusion that struck me. I didn't know what to do and that made me feel uncomfortable. But for me to feel anything was remarkable, so I paused and tried to familiarize myself with the feeling.

He drew me from my musings with a simple command. "Kiss me."

I welcomed his guidance given my uncertainty in the situation. I leaned forward, closing the remaining distance between us and pressed my lips firmly against his, a purely mechanical action. I held still for a second or two and then pulled back, seeking approval.

"You can do better than that, pretty doll," he challenged.

I blinked at the insinuated insult. I had no idea if I could indeed perform better, it was only the second kiss in my life, and how much better could the third possibly be? But I pushed forward again and tried anew. This time the kiss was softer, the contact of our lips more subtle, but it made the experience all the more intense. It felt more like the kiss I had shared with Duo, I felt a shiver and a tingle, either from this third kiss or the memory of the first. I retreated once more and fixed questioning eyes on Hendrik.

He didn't offer me any reassurance. "Were these your first kisses?"

I assumed he meant to apply that they had both been exceptionally inadequate and inexperience was the only logical explanation. "No," I answered honestly, "I have kissed once before."

"Lie down," he said, ignoring my candid answer.

I did as I was told, not wanting to disappoint him further, after all, he was my only hope at becoming capable of emotions, as my "more than a friend". I didn't want him to be displeased with me and leave me like Duo had, leaving me dead and empty and lost. I laid down on my side and supported my head with my hand. I stared at him, trying to gauge him, but I was hopelessly illiterate to human behavior and emotion, I couldn't read him.

"Rest your wrist on your hip," he instructed and as I complied he appreciated: "Yeah, like that, that's good." He picked up the camera and busily started shooting more pictures of me. From behind the camera he said: "Tell me who this other person is, this first person you kissed."

"He was a friend."

"Was?"

I frowned. "I don't know. Yes, I think so."

"You don't see him anymore?"

"I haven't seen him in a year. He went back home, to the colonies."

"Why didn't you?"

"I have no home. And shuttle tickets are expensive."

He chuckled. "Lick your lips."

Another unusual request, but it was met with no protest from me. I licked my upper lip and heard the frequency of the shutter increase. Only afterwards did I think to ask: "Why?"

His answer was curt. "Because I told you to. Now lie on your back."

I repositioned myself as ordered.

He momentarily lowered the camera and reached out his hand. He took hold of my wrist and casually placed my hand over my crotch, then he resumed taking many pictures.

Vividly I remembered a motel in Luxembourg, the smell of my own urine and the gravelly voice of the manager as he approached me with his hands out towards me like greedy claws. I moved my hand up to my abdomen. "Why are you taking these pictures?"

"Because people like to see beautiful things, but they can't all have a beautiful thing in their living room, lying on their couch, so I share my beautiful thing with them."

"Do you sell the pictures? Is that how you pay for this loft?"

"Oh no. The soaring street value of cocaine pays for this loft," he replied matter-of-factly. "The pictures I share for a meager fee, being an enthusiast." He winked at me.

Strangely, this silenced the alarms that had been going off, if he wasn't earning much money with it, than it was just a hobby and how threatening could a hobby be? The fact that he was a criminal, dealing drugs, didn't scare me. I had committed far worse crimes than that, so I had no right to judge him.

Out of the blue he asked: "Did your friend have sex with you?"

"No."

"Did he want to?"

"I don't know." How could I? I couldn't even read the most obvious thoughts, let alone hidden, secret ones.

"Did you want to?"

The question startled me. I had expected my answer to be an instant, adamant "no", but instead I repeated: "I don't know."

"Do you want me to have sex with you?"

"I don't know."

"Have you ever had sex?"

"No."

My lack of experience with kissing must have alerted him with this, but to have it verified caused him to lower the camera once more and grin at me. "Not even with a woman?"

"No."

"Do you like men or do you like women?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. I have never felt close to either." Maybe that was a lie, I thought and marveled at the image of Duo's smiling face that popped up unannounced. "I don't really… feel," I added.

"Would you like me to help you feel?"

I stared at him. He could help me help me feel? "Yes."

He smirked darkly. "Good." He put side the camera and looked at his watch. "I think it's time for you to go home now, pretty doll." He helped me into my shirt, his coarse fingers grazing my skin.

He called a taxi for me, paid the driver in advance and then sent me home, with a short, parting kiss.

The fact that nothing really happened that night put me at ease. It added to the inexplicable trust I felt towards him. It never felt like he was forcing me into anything.

The next day he slid a printed picture under my door. It was a black and white image of myself. It was the picture in which I was still sitting upright and Hendrik had his hand on my chin and his thumb dragging across my lower lip. The picture was snapped right as I had started to blink, giving my eyes a hooded and sensual appeal. With black marker he had written along the bottom: "Feel anything yet?" I didn't. The picture was a lie, it alluded to something that was untrue, it was manufactured. It was manipulated.

Importantly though, in the absence of emotion, I also didn't feel scared, or alarmed by the nature in which the picture was portrayed.

I only felt determination to make myself feel something real, a true emotion. The picture and it's script deceived me into thinking that this hobby of Hendrik was an integral part of this process and made me think that I shouldn't resist this proposed method. How could I deny the value of his teachings? He clearly knew more about social interaction and human emotionality than me. I figured I should just go along with it, be open to it, I trusted him after all, and counted on him. I regarded him as my only hope.

What did I have to lose?

* * *

**AC 206**

Duo stirred. His limbs started to move, stretching. He let out a loud, drawled groan. Then rubbed his eyes before finally opening them. "Hey," he greeted, smiling at me sheepishly.

"Hey."

"How long was I out for?"

"A couple of hours."

"Jesus." He looked at the clock and repeated his exclamation more loudly. "It's nine o'clock already? I slept since this afternoon?"

"You were tired. You've been driving a lot, that must have taken a lot out of you."

"You could have woken me, must have been tedious for you."

"It was fine."

He looked around but could see no more than the few yards of tarmac in front of us, lit starkly by the headlights of the old car. "Where are we?"

"We just passed Blue Springs."

"Oh wow, we crossed the state border already?"

I nodded.

"I guess we should find a place to eat and to sleep."

"There's a gas station and snack bar a little up ahead, saw the sign a bit ago."

"Hmmm, fried food. I approve. We could ask people there about a nearby motel?"

"Sure."

A little while later we arrived at the gas station. The tank was nearly empty but being hungry we both made a beeline for the adjoining snack-bar. With our generous servings of cheese chili fries and hotdogs and directions to a motel down the road we went back to the car and sat in the backseat, with our boxed meal between us. Duo propped his feet up against the back of the passenger seat in front of him and I stretched out my legs through the open space between the driver's seat and the passenger seat, taking note not to kick the gear shift. We quietly dug into our unhealthy, belated dinner.

We finished quickly and Duo compacted the boxes into one package. He momentarily set them aside and turned in his seat, putting one knee up on the bench, to look at me. Mildly he started: "We could be in Washington in two days and some change."

"Yes," I agreed matter-of-factly.

"How do you feel about this?"

I shrugged, trying to pretend that it had no effect on me, but the approaching confrontation with reality had filled me with a sense of dread. "We were going to get there eventually anyway. It doesn't make much of a difference that we're two days early."

"It doesn't?" There was disbelief in his voice.

I shrugged again, but averted my gaze to my lap where my nervous fingers played with the hem of my shirt.

"If you want…" he paused briefly, staring at my traitorous fingers, distracted by the forthcoming honesty in them, "we could find a nice hotel and stay there for a bit. Get some rest and just… be together."

I gave it some thought, letting the silence stretch between us – Duo waiting wide eyed, fumbling with the hem of his own shirt with twitching fingers. I decided: "No. I think it will actually be better to get there a little early. You shouldn't get there right before she is about to be induced. You two have a lot to figure out together."

"Us three," he corrected.

I gave him a sad smile.

"Are you sure?" His voice was laced with worry. Worry for me. His heart hurt for me, I knew that.

I nodded, at peace with my decision, even though it pained me. "Yes. It's better to have everything in order before the baby gets here."

Duo sighed, not knowing what to say.

"Have you… thought of a name?" My fingers plucked at a loose thread.

He snapped his head up, looking at me with unbridled shock. I had never elected to discuss the topic with him. But there was no refuge in denial and ignorance anymore. "I- I have." He emphasized. "I haven't discussed anything with Hilde."

I nodded. The ache in my chest made me wonder if I should have still protected myself by not bringing it up, but I knew I was doing the right thing.

"I uh," he started uncertainly, "I thought of… Helena, for a girl?"

I smiled. I didn't dare to look at him, but I remarked with a whisper: "That's a beautiful name."

"And… if it's a boy-" He needed a moment to compose himself. "If it's a boy, maybe- with- with your permission of course… maybe Valentine?"

I looked up at him, my heart clenched.

"Only if you would be okay with that," he quickly assured me. When I didn't respond he said with deep concern: "I don't want you to take it the wrong way. But since this child is going to be ours too, I thought we could… honor-" He stopped himself abruptly. "I'm sorry. Maybe we should keep that name as an option for our own child one day. I-I didn't mean to be insensitive. I just wanted you to feel part of it."

"You should suggest it to Hilde," I said dully. "The name."

"You sure?"

"Yes. I don't think I ever want to go down that road again. Try to have a child."

Duo reached his hand out to my knee for a comforting touch. "Heero-"

I pulled my leg out of his reach. "Please don't," I begged him. I could feel him internally berating himself, his presence became dark and moody. I could practically feel the car tilt on its suspension as a ton of guilt settled on Duo's shoulders.

I sighed. "Let's go to the motel. I'll drive."

Duo dumped our trash in a bin and I filled up the gas tank. I started the engine and we started the two mile stretch towards the roadside motel. Duo seemed defeated into utter silence, so I made the payment at the front desk and accepted the key and led us to our room for the night. Duo was passive and lost in thought.

The room was not unreasonable. The sheets smelled crisp and clean, the mattress was comfortable and the bathroom was fairly new and up-to-date.

"Duo?" I started, midway through getting ready for bed. "I'm not angry with you. I don't mind that you suggested the name."

He looked at me with big eyes that seemed near tears.

"I understand what you meant and… I appreciate it. But you shouldn't name the child Valentine for my sake, to make me feel involved, or like I'm as much its parent as you and Hilde are. Because that is not true. I may, someday, be ready for it to be true, but Hilde will never agree with that. Don't argue-" I interjected as I recognized he was about to. "Let's be honest… she has every right to not want me to be part of it. I'm not going to fight that." I took a deep breath and added sincerely: "This is your child and I think it is wonderful that you want to honor the memory of Leander through this child. And since I don't think I will ever want to try to have children again, I have no qualm with you taking this opportunity to honor him."

"I don't want to hurt you." His voice was breaking.

I composed myself, blinking away threatening tears. "You already have. You wounded me deeply. But… I like to think that this wound, too, will someday be nothing more than a scar and the memory of pain." I touched the scar on my arm, from one of the bullets that Duo fired at me and ripped through my flesh, the day we met.

There were a lot of wounds that still needed healing. I had to hope and trust that time would do the trick. Until then, I felt like I could do nothing but wait; wait for the pain to pass.

But for now, the pain caused me to lie awake, all through the night, clutching at the fabric of my shirt over my heart. It had been throbbing unbearably painfully ever since I had said his name.

 


	7. Chapter Seven

**Loneliest Road**

**Chapter 7**

_\- Green light. Yellow light. Red light. In life there is really only one light. Everything else is darkness. -_

* * *

**AC 198**

I spent more and more time at Hendrik's loft, cutting back my hours at work. I was hardly ever home. During the day I either worked or was at the loft with Hendrik. During the evening and a large part of the night I would be at the bar, just sitting there, watching him, ignoring the advances of other patrons, much to Hendrik's amusement. So when Hendrik said it was a good idea for me to move in with him, I didn't question his logic. It did seem like the more practical option and it would save me from eventually going through the trouble of purchasing furniture to fill my own apartment with. That same night he suggested it, he waited in the doorway after his shift and watched as I packed my duffel bag with my few belongings. Then he took me home with him.

That was the first night we slept in the same bed. I hadn't even considered we would be sharing a bed. I offered to sleep on the couch, but Hendrik flat out refused. He said: "You will be sleeping with me."

If it didn't bother him than I supposed there was no reason for me to be bothered with it either. At least his bed was big, queen-sized. During the war I had shared many, much smaller beds, mostly with Duo. It was never an issue, so why should I have made an issue of then? Although I did recognize that sharing a bed with Duo, my comrade in war, was different from sharing a bed with Hendrik, because clearly our relationship was different. It was a different context.

Still, the bed was alluring after sleeping on a thin mattress on the cold floor of my empty apartment for so long. I wasn't about to pass up on the opportunity.

Hendrik was very chivalrous the first few weeks. He allowed me to do anything I pleased, as long as I just shared the bed with him. He didn't make any moves towards me, he allowed me my space. He didn't even kiss me for any other purpose than to chastely kiss me goodnight, even though before then we had been sharing more and more kisses and they became increasingly intense at his insistence.

After a few weeks of acclimatization though, Hendrik deemed he had given me plenty of time to get comfortable and that is when he started to introduce me to the rules.

The first thing he had me do was quit my job. He argued that there was no need for me to work, he paid for my housing, my food and had even come home on several occasions with presents; mostly new clothes. More importantly he didn't like that our vastly different hours kept us apart. I worked almost exclusively the day shift, whereas Hendrik obviously worked the evenings and nights. He wanted me to be home when he was home.

He was very adamant about it. I figured he was right, it was impractical for me to keep my dead-end job. I quit without any objection, although I did sleep uneasy that night. I always thought that if I would get the opportunity to work some place I would enjoy, Hendrik would let me, be happy for me even, that comforted me, put me at ease – not knowing that that was false hope.

Alex, my co-worker and self-proclaimed friend, was upset at my abrupt decision to quit work. He didn't understand. He didn't know of Hendrik. He made me promise to stay in touch. I owed him at least that, he seemed genuinely upset at the thought of not seeing me anymore.

A few days later I had to break that promise. I hung out with Alex for a few hours at his modest apartment, he had me watch movies with him and laughed at my admission that I had never watched a movie for entertainment purposes before. I enjoyed that afternoon. But when I came home, Hendrik was angry. He didn't want me to spend so much time with Alex, he didn't trust the young man. He suspected that something had happened between us and seemed distraught at the very thought. He asked me who was more important to me, him or Alex. He made me choose.

I ignored Alex' calls from that day on until eventually he gave up and didn't try to contact me again.

Hendrick was pleased with my decision. He took me out to dinner, bought me a bouquet of flowers and kissed me deeply and passionately for the first time since I moved in. At his kiss something stirred within me and it reminded me that I needed to make Hendrik happy, after all, with Duo out of my life, Hendrik was the only person left who could awake anything within me. I wasn't sure what I was feeling, or if they were feelings worth mentioning at all, but I noticed a slow change within me that I wanted to hold on to; needed to hold on to.

Hendrik's next rule caught me off guard.

It was four AM and Hendrik came home from his shift at the bar. I was on the leather couch, reading one of the books from Hendrik's bookcase. It was a textbook on photography, I was just trying to understand. So far it was unclear to me why he preferred to take my picture with my shirt off, I hadn't come across a chapter on that yet.

"It's good to be home," He said and he rushed towards me. He took the book from my hands, dropping it down on the coffee table and then he strongly grabbed my wrist and pulled me up to my feet. He wrapped his arms around my waist and held me tightly against him while he leaned his head down to kiss me. His kiss was aggressive and demanding. When he got like that I knew he wanted me to open my mouth, so I did and I let his tongue greedily plunder my mouth. The sensations I experienced whenever he kissed me like that were not unwelcome, especially when he had me pressed up against him like that.

"Hmmm," He moaned as we parted. "It's good to be home," He repeated. "Come sleep with me pretty doll." He tugged me to the bed.

He stood on his side, undressing.

I stood on my side, watching him. There was a sense of confusion but also curiosity when Hendrik stripped down further than usual without grabbing fresh clothes from the closet. When he was only his underwear he looked up at me.

"Undress."

"Why?"

He smirked. "From now on clothes are no longer allowed in bed."

"Why?"

"It's just more comfortable that way."

"I don't mind sleeping with my clothes on," I looked down my body, at my cotton T-shirt and my loose sweatpants.

"I mind when you sleep with your clothes on." He promptly hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his boxer shorts and pulled them down, then stepped out of them.

I stared at him. I had never him naked before, like I said, he was very chivalrous the first couple of weeks. He hadn't seen me completely naked yet either, only with my shirt off, or that once when I was just in my underwear and he reached for his photo camera again. The only people who had ever seen me fully naked were J, Trowa I supposed, when he took care of me and… Duo.

I shook my head, why was I once again thinking about Duo? I redirected my focus to Hendrik.

He let me look at him as he just stood there, his hands at his sides, making no attempt to cover up his private parts. He seemed very confidant and self-assured. My gaze wasn't really focused on his face, but if it was I would have caught the smirk.

I was preoccupied studying his body. I had always known he was tall and muscular, but to see him completely exposed only highlighted that; his thick neck, his broad shoulders, his big arms, his buff chest, his chiseled abs, his toned, muscular legs. Other than that I noticed he was 'big' in another sense as well. Not grasping the concept of embarrassment or shame, I had no qualms about looking.

"Take off your clothes, pretty doll." He said in a soft but definitive tone. "Let me see you."

Without resistance I heeded his request and pulled my shirt up over my head and let it drop to the floor. Then I took off my sweat pants and was left in only my briefs. I looked down and noticed the bulge between my legs was protruding a little more than usual. I wasn't in a fully erect state, but watching Hendrik undress had left me semi-hard. I supposed that meant I was excited then. Excitement was a feeling, was it not? The realization was a positive one. Without any further ado I took off my briefs as well. I looked at Hendrik expectantly, having no clue what to do, how to act or what to say in the given situation.

"Don't be embarrassed," Hendrik said with a grin and he kneeled on the bed.

"I'm not," I replied matter-of-factly.

"Good…" He drawled, with hungry eyes he looked me up and down. "You have a beautiful body. I am very pleased."

I guessed I didn't look half bad, especially for my age, due to the extensive training that I went through. But I was strangely aware of how much bigger Hendrik was, in every sense. It made me think that we didn't match, that we didn't fit together, that we didn't belong together. It was a little frustrating, the way I used to get frustrated during my early days of training when J presented me with parts from several rifles and I tried and failed to reassemble them. I pushed that thought from my mind, realizing, on some level, that it wasn't right to think about that in the current situation.

Hendrik sat down on his side of the bed, leaning back against the headboard, his long legs outstretched. He gestured for me to join him on the bed.

I did, sitting down atop the sheets and briefly rearranging the pillows behind my back.

"Do you want to have sex with me?"

"I don't know," I answered honestly.

Hendrik didn't react, instead, he continued questioning: "Have you ever masturbated?"

"Yes."

He waited for me to elaborate, a devilish glint in his eyes.

"Sometimes I wake up with an erection and it feels better to take care of it than to wait until it goes away naturally."

"Naturally?" Hendrik chuckled deeply. "There is nothing more unnatural than letting an erection go to waste."

I shrugged, I didn't really have an opinion on the matter.

"Show me how you touch yourself," Hendrik urged and he scooted a little closer to me. It was evident he was getting aroused.

It was a little strange to be doing that in his presence, but after brief thought I didn't think I was averse to the idea. Maybe it was like when he wanted me to take my shirt off, so he could look at me and take pictures of me. That seemed innocent enough, it certainly had never developed into anything I felt overly uncomfortable with. I could trust him.

Unceremoniously I started masturbating. My technique was straightforward, unimaginative. With his eyes intently on my groin, I could not deny that I got hard faster than I normally did and I felt hotter than I normally did.

"Is that all you do when you pleasure yourself?" Hendrik questioned.

I was a little caught off guard by the sudden interruption. "Yes," I admitted.

Hendrik chuckled softly. "Oh, pretty doll, you have been missing out."

"Why? It works," I replied dumbly.

He chuckled again. "I'm sure it does." He leaned over and planted a light, surprisingly delicate kiss on my cheek. "Watch me," he whispered in my ear.

I watched intently, willing to learn, as he slowly ran his hands down his defined chest and abdomen, his palms grazing over his nipples, making them hard. When he hands were near his groin, he purposefully ignored his penis, even though it was fully erect ever since I started to touch myself. With a light touch he stroked the insides on his thighs and then moved his attention to his scrotum. He moaned shamelessly at his own ministrations.

My fingers were still around my own erection, but I didn't stroke myself, I was too distracted by watching him.

He became more bold, more goal oriented. It was clear he knew his own body well and new exactly what felt good. He wasn't just mindlessly pumping his fist up and down like I always did.

The technique was familiar, I recognized it from a memory. I had once seen Duo masturbate like that when we shared a dorm room at one of the schools we were enrolled in and he thought I was fast asleep.

Suddenly I had the urge to continue to touch myself. I kept my eyes affixed on Hendrik's actions as I tried to mimic them on myself, unable to contain my gasps and whimpers as I discovered how much better it felt than just mindlessly jerking off.

"Are you close, pretty doll?"

I could do nothing other than moan in response as my body urged me to quicken the pace and intensify my touches. My whole body burned with heat, my dick was rock hard.

Hendrik let out a hearty laugh, it was all the answer he needed.

Soon we both orgasmed, in near unison. The climax was a relief like I had never experienced before, my entire body felt relaxed, sated and tired. I brought one of my hands up to my chest as I kept the other around the base of my softening penis. With a feather light touch I lazily drew patterns on my chest, occasionally accidentally grazing a nipple, causing me to gasp. I kept my eyes closed as I enjoyed the aftermath.

The mattress moved and dipped beside me as Hendrik turned to lay on his side, facing me.

I opened my eyes and found him smirking at me, the evidence of his own release on his stomach.

He briefly broke eye-contact and rolled onto his other side. I heard him open and close the drawer of his nightstand. He turned back and presented a box of tissues, placing it in between us on the bed. He pulled out a couple and started cleaning his essence off his body, I followed his example, wiping my come off myself.

When we were done he put away of the box of tissues and leaned in for another chaste kiss on my cheek, which appeared to be a complete contrast to what we had just done. He pulled up the sheets to cover us both, wished me goodnight and then reached up to switch of the light.

In the darkness I stared ahead of me, not entirely sure what just happened, what it meant or how it would change things.

Let alone how it would change me.

* * *

**AC 206**

"Heero, baby?"

I blinked, startled by Duo's hand waving in front of my face. I focused my eyes on his amused features.

"You were like a million miles away," He remarked and then handed me a paper cup of hot coffee.

"Thanks," I took a cautious sip. I was leaning against the side of the car, looking at the vehicles speeding by along the highway. I had waited while Duo had gone to get us coffee and breakfast from the gas station. Meanwhile I had been lost in thought, the way I had been lost in thought all night.

"What were you thinking about?" Now there was a hint of concern in his voice.

"It's not important," I breathed.

"Right." He bit the inside of his lip to prevent himself from questioning me further.

"Did they have anything decent to eat?"

Duo shrugged his shoulder. "Just more of the same old, pre-packaged sandwiches." He held up a selection.

"I happen to like those," I said with a smile to lighten the atmosphere and I reached for one of them, ripping the package open and demonstratively taking a bite.

"Well, that makes one of us…" He noted as he fingered the lip of the plastic package. "I like the sandwiches you make," He said with a shy smile.

I quirked an eyebrow. "Really? I recall you accusing me of trying to kill you when I first served you those."

"Back then I had no idea yet how good they are. The amount of mayonnaise and mustard threw me for a second."

I let out a short laugh.

Duo let out a deep breath and stepped closer towards me. "I missed that. I missed this," He said serenely and he brought up one hand to touch the exposed skin of my arm delicately, stroking the back of his fingers up and down slightly.

"Missed what?" I asked, trying to distract myself from the pleasant shudder I felt.

"Talking to you about stupid things, lighthearted things. It makes me feel close to you. Like we are the old 'us' again." He looked up at me with poignant eyes.

I looked down at our feet, not able to look back at him without emotions welling up to an unbearable level. "We didn't exactly have a lighthearted couple of years."

"I know," He agreed with a sigh, "The past two years haven't been easy. But we are still here, we are still together. I think that is very special. And I cherish that more than anything."

I didn't say anything. I didn't know what to say. You'd think after a night spent in thought, I would have some words, there was no shortage of words in my head. But there was a disconnect between what I dared to think and what I dared to say.

"I think we can get there again, back to being the old 'us'," Duo whispered. He put our coffee cups and the sandwiches on the roof of the car, to free his hands to rest them both on my hips and get the dangerously hot liquid out of the way. He leaned his forehead against mine and closed his eyes. "I'm not saying that I think everything that has happened hasn't changed us, or won't continue to change us" He continued, "But I think we can overcome it and go back to loving each other and trusting each other the way we did."

I sighed, I reached down for his hands and gently took them off my hips. "I never stopped loving you," I told him, holding his big hands in mine, intertwining our fingers, "Nor did I ever love you less, in spite of what happened and in spite of what you may think…"

"But?" Duo rightly suspected, his voice cracking.

"I don't know if we will ever get the trust back. Back to the way it was."

"Please don't say that," Duo begged. He moved in to place a gently kiss on the corner of my mouth, then released his hands from mine and strongly wrapped his arms around me in a tight embrace, nuzzling his nose past my ear and into my hair.

With a sigh I hugged him back. I relished in the way he felt against me, the way he smelled and the feel of the warmth of his hands on my back radiating through the thin fabric of my grey shirt. It was a perfect hug, like all his hugs used to be. Still, it wasn't the same as before. Which was exactly what I feared, that nothing would be the same as before.

"We've hurt each other, Duo," I started. "You didn't just hurt me, I hurt you too, I realize that now," I admitted earnestly, after being consumed by that thought all night. "How can we ever go back to our old self after what life has done to us and after what we have done to each other?"

Duo slowly released me. Not until I saw the tears running down his face did I realize I had been silently crying as well.

"What you did doesn't compare to the mistake I made," He said sternly. "I don't want you to feel guilty about that. You were hurting, I understand."

"Maybe it is just as bad. You were hurting too and I only made that worse." My voice suddenly changed as I was overwhelmed by emotions. "I drove you to Hilde. I made it unbearable for you to stay. I drove you to her." I let out a single sob. "It was my fault, but I'm still just so angry with you. It doesn't make any sense!"

"Shhh, shhh." Duo took me in his arms again. He softly ran his hand through my hair as I cried into his shoulder.

I was embarrassed at the intensity of my emotions, after all the time that had passed. Not the nearly nine months since Duo cheated on me with Hilde, but the nearly two years since the event that started all the misery.

"It's not your fault, Heero," He assured me. "Yes, you did drive me away. But you didn't drive me to Hilde. It was my own mistake to go see her. And it was my own mistake to have let that night go as it did. That is all on me."

"I wanted him so badly!" I cried.

Duo's body shook with a sob at my cry as he realized what it was that I was so upset about. "I know," He said with coarse voice. "I know. I did too."

"I loved him!"

He tightened his embrace, trying to still my shaking body. "I know you did. And I loved him too." He kissed my ear and my neck. I could feel the wetness on his face as he pressed it against mine.

He held me for a long time, tightly in his arms, patient and understanding. It was so much like how it used to be it was effortless for me to pretend that it was and I needed that. I hugged him back tighter still and I imagined we were in our kitchen, a few years, back when he would just hold me after coming home from a long day at the garage. Or in the shower, in the morning, when he would join me in the stall and wrap his arms around me and we would just stand there under the spray, enjoying each other, nearly being late for work each time.

I pulled back enough to connect our mouths and kiss him desperately. The open-mouthed kiss soon deepened and the trails of tears dried on our face as we lost ourselves in the illusion that we could recapture what once was. His hands cupped my face, palms over an erratic, wild heartbeat. He kissed me back with the same desperation that I felt.

I broke the kiss to say something, but Duo instantly leaned forward to capture my lips anew, losing himself to the growing passion between us, a passion that had been missing for a long time, but appeared reawakened by our openness and honesty. I wasn't about to let the fact that the feeling may well be temporary stop us. I returned the kiss hungrily, fighting his tongue with my own.

Suddenly I pushed him back and looked up at his worried face. Worried that he had made a mistake, worried that he may have pushed me. The concern melted away when I whispered huskily: "If you really think we can get 'us' back, then make love to me like you used to." I wanted just one more time with him, before I would lose him to Hilde and this beautiful baby that would be. I wanted once more and I wanted to pretend that it could stay like that forever, even though I had long suspected differently.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," I flicked my tongue over his Adam's apple.

Duo groaned. "Should I get us a room again, then?"

I nodded. I wasn't about to let it take place on the back seat of the old car in a parking lot in broad daylight. People had been watching us as it was. Two men kissing still wasn't a common, nor accepted sight in rural America.

He planted one more firm kiss on my lips and then announced: "Then I guess I'll go arrange that." He hurried off back to the motel reception, nothing more than a small office in the corner of the building.

I took a deep breath and ran my hand through my hair. I turned around and dumped the sandwiches in the car, placing the coffee in a cup holder just because I didn't feel comfortable walking over to the trash bin few yards away with my erection evident in my tight jeans.

Duo walked back over with a key to a room. His 'delicate state' was a little less obvious in his looser jeans with the groin area also covered by his untucked button-up shirt. Still, it was pretty clear if you just thought to look. I laughed at what the receptionist must have thought, though I was relatively certain it wasn't a rarity to have a disheveled looking man come up demanding a room as quickly as possible.

"Why are you laughing?" Duo wondered before he pushing his body flush against mine and gave me a short but passionate kiss.

"I'm just happy, for once," I whispered against his lips. Not entirely untrue. I was excited about what would happen over the course of the next few minutes – I didn't think it would last very long considering how long it had been and how eager we both were – anything beyond the next few minutes was still daunting and dark.

"I'm happy too. I've wanted this for so long," He said between kisses.

I knew that with "this" he wasn't just referring about the imminent sexual encounter, he meant our reconnection. Not knowing if that was something I could offer, I ignored that aspect to it and whispered in his ear: "Then let's go." I took the key from his hand, checked the number and pulled him along by the wrist to the corresponding room.

Once we were inside the darkened room Duo's hands were all over me again, first on my hips to pull me close, then he squeezed my ass and rocked our hips together. We both moaned at the friction and the feel of the other's erection against us. One of his hands traveled up my back and grabbed my neck, tilting my head as he pleased as he ravaged my mouth – which I thoroughly enjoyed. His other hand moved up my front, slipping under my shirt. He sensually caressed the skin of my stomach and chest as he trailed up my body till he found a nipple and started to play with it.

I broke the kiss to gasp. The feeling of him rubbing the nub between his fingers was familiar, but I didn't remember it being that intense.

Duo grinned. He brought his mouth close to mine again but instead of dominantly capturing my lips in a hot kiss, he teased me by running his open mouth along my lips softly, pulling his head back every time I pushed forward to deepen the kiss.

"Ahh, tease…"

Duo chuckled. I had expected him to give in to me and kiss me, but instead, with a wicked look, he bent forward. With both hands he pushed my shirt up to my collarbone and held it there as he started licking and sucking the nipple that he had been teasing with his hand previously. After a few minutes he moved over to the other, but I didn't allow him to spend that much time on that one. Urgently I grabbed the base of his braid and pulled his face up. I kissed him firmly and then parted my lips to beg him: "Fuck me." I knew that would drive him wild and would have much the same effect on him as what he just did to me. It may have been a long time, it seemed we still knew each other instinctually. My body knew what to do – my hands knew where to wander, my hips knew how to thrust, my lips knew what to whisper.

With a growl he reconnected our lips. His hands went south to strongly grasp my ass and lift me up.

I wrapped my arms and legs around him as he carried me over to the bed and dropped us down onto it.

He rid us both of our tops and then lay down on top of me, between my legs. His slick chest against my own felt amazing as our tongues fought and our hips ground together.

I moaned into his mouth, helpless to fight the sensations. Greedy for more pleasure and ultimately release I rocked my hips against his, loving the feel of our arousals pressed together, although separated by our jeans and underwear.

Duo raised himself up and sat back on his haunches between my spread legs. He ran his hands up my denim clad thighs, causing a shudder to run through me. He hands trailed all the way up to my groin, massaging me through my pants momentarily before he deftly popped open the button and unzipped the fly. He licked his lips at my exposed boxer briefs, bulging with need. "I want to suck you," He admitted, his fingers ghosted over the thin material.

"Don't," I ground out. "I'm already too close." Normally I wouldn't have made any objections. Many times Duo had brought me to orgasm – and vice versa - right before he made love to me – yet we never failed to come together again a second time. However I didn't know how I would feel and how willing I would still be after the urgency had left my body following the climax. I didn't want to risk the feeling going away before I've had him inside me and complete me one more time.

Duo nodded. He leaned forward to cherish my chest and abdomen with kisses as he pulled my pants down along with my underwear.

I pulled up my legs to get them out of the jeans and watched Duo discard them to the floor.

He briefly stood up to fully undress himself before he climbed back on. He couldn't resist giving his erection a few strokes in the heat of things.

I moaned, I realized I also wanted to have him in my mouth and maybe I should have offered like he had, but at that point I was too damn eager to have him make love to me properly.

Luckily we didn't have to worry about condoms, because I doubted Duo would have had the audacity to bring them along on our trip. He had gotten tested a few months after his slip up with Hilde and though I wasn't sure he would never slip again, I knew it hadn't happened since, as he was too busy making it up to me. I had gotten tested after Hendrik. After whom I had never had sex with anyone other than Duo.

I pushed those thoughts from my mind, not too difficult considering how aroused and ready I was.

Duo leaned over me. "Are you sure, Heero?"

I couldn't speak, I could only nod. I was sure.

He spit a liberal amount of saliva in his hand and rubbed it over his erection, then hooked his hands under the back of knees and pushed them up.

My heart fluttered and my arousal throbbed in anticipation as I felt him press up against me. Still, I had the sense to remind him breathlessly: "It's been a really long time. Maybe you should use your fingers first."

He nodded dumbly, obviously feeling stupid for not having thought of that, especially since we didn't have any proper lubrication to ease the process. He put two of his fingers in his mouth, sucking them until he was satisfied they were wet enough, he brought them down between my legs and took his time stretching me.

"I think that's good enough," I breathed between moans after a while. Duo definitely still knew me; still knew how to drive me crazy with pleasure.

"Are you sure? I don't want to hurt you," He said with evident concern. He kept thrusting the pair of fingers in and out of me, more often than not finding my prostate with them and brushing by it gently, making sparks appear in front of my eyes.

"If you don't get to it quickly I'm going to come before you do," I admitted with bright red, hot cheekbones.

He nodded and retreated his fingers. "Don't be embarrassed. I don't think I'm going to last long myself. At all," He stressed and he grinned down at me. He spit into his hand again, wetting his erection anew and then he pushed his hips forward again.

"Ohhh, yeah," I moaned when I felt him. I wrapped my legs around his hips.

My soon to be renewed lover bent forward and captured my lips in an attempt to distract me from any discomfort as he gradually pushed into me, but we couldn't maintain the kiss, we both let out deep groans as pleasure hit us when he disappeared into me to the hilt. There was pain involved, a burning sensation, but I needed him, so I was willing to accept the pain. An unexpected analogy for what our relationship had become.

He gave me a few minutes to adjust, kissing my face.

"I'm ready."

He started moving carefully, creating a slow rhythm of long, deep thrusts.

I moaned continuously as he moved within me, not just literally but figuratively as well. His hands were touching a heart and a soul that I had kept locked away from him for too long, fearing what he would do with them once he would get his hands on them again, fearing him to be coarse and irresponsible and not like I knew him to be, only causing more damage. But he was gentle. So gentle.

"I love you Heero. I love you so much," He whispered, his hot breath tingling in my ear.

"I love you too," I replied and kissed his cheek.

Duo responded by kissing my mouth, keeping our lips locked as he gradually increased the pace, flooding us both with pleasure.

I did love him. And I knew he loved me. Strangely though, I had learned to doubt whether or not that was enough to make a relationship work between two people. Even though we loved each other, we had no control over our lives. Bad things could always happen, mistakes could always be made. I could shut myself off again and revert back into the soldier and Duo could cheat on me again.

But in the moment our love was enough. It was everything I needed, in the motel room that shielded us from the outside world and our reality.

As expected, it didn't last long. Duo announced that he was about to come and grasped my previously neglected arousal to bring me to climax in unison with him.

I screamed when I came. I hoped the neighboring rooms were unoccupied or else people would surely have heard.

Duo yelled out my name in the throes of his own completion. He collapsed on top of me, his hot breath spreading across my chest.

"That was incredible," He said after a long silence.

"Yes," I agreed. I lazily stroked my fingers through his hair.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm a little sore," I admitted, continuing to pet his soft hair.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay, it was unavoidable. It's been so long and it didn't help that we didn't have any lube."

Duo pushed himself up to look at me. "I'm sorry about that too."

"For not having brought lube? Don't be, if I had found it in your bag before now I would have been pissed," I chuckled, even though it was the truth.

"No, for how long it's been."

I sighed. "That is more my fault than it is yours."

"Maybe, but I didn't help matters."

No, sleeping with Hilde didn't help matters, I thought to myself.

With a groan Duo got up. "I'll go get a towel to clean us up."

I watched him disappear into the bathroom. I heard him run the faucet for a while and then he returned with a small, towel, wet with warm water. I sighed contently as he gently cleaned my stomach, my chest and even my neck – clearly I had enjoyed myself. Once I was clean he cleaned himself off and then threw the towel to the floor and covered us up with the sheets as our sweat and the water started to dry on our skin. He pulled me into his arms and I didn't resist, instead I nuzzled my face against his chest, breathing in deeply, enjoying his scent; a combination of his own, unique smell and the smell of sex. I didn't want this serenity to be over quite yet. I closed my eyes and simply bathed in his warmth.

After a few minutes, perhaps as many as thirty, I groaned and said: "If we don't get out soon I'm going to fall asleep."

"Then just sleep," Duo whispered, his hand softly caressing my back.

"Shouldn't we get back on the road?"

"We have time," He quietly assured me. "We have enough time to stay here all day if you want."

"Do you want to?"

"You know I do."

Come to think of it, I did. He had already offered to stay put for a little bit before and just enjoy each other's company for a little bit before we would reach Washington D.C. and things would get even more complicated.

Tired from getting no sleep that night and sated from the physical exertion, I realized I had no desire to get out of bed and onto the road, especially knowing what was waiting at the end of the journey. "Then let's stay here for a bit."

Duo's arms tightened around me, pleased at my decision. He moved to kiss my forehead and then settled with a sigh.

We fell asleep together, but as relaxed and comfortable as I had felt, my dreams were plagued by memories from long ago, prompted by Duo's gentle and wonderful lovemaking as I had once known such a stark contrast.

* * *

**AC 198**

The rules accumulated at Hendrik's loft. Every so often he would introduce a new one. I didn't really understand any of them, let alone his reasoning behind them, but I didn't want to make him unhappy. I didn't want to make him grow tired of me, or bored with me, I didn't want to make him leave. Besides, his rules really weren't that difficult to follow. I had been subjected to much more severe and much more severely punishable rules than anything Hendrik come up with. Once you have killed someone, especially on your own accord, you moral boundaries shift to where you can't see them anymore and you are constantly probing in the dark to try and find them and you don't know where they are until you've crossed them.

The point was, nothing he could make me do was worse than many of the things I had already done, so why not just do it? Some of the rules I even learned to enjoy. Like the rule that we must always shower together. My heart may have not yet known what it is like to feel, to truly feel, but my body was a quick learner and I supposed Hendrik was a good teacher. It started as masturbating in each other's presence, then he pushed it to evolve to jerking each other off and then, one shower, he dropped to his knees and used his mouth to pleasure me to completion.

Even though what I was feeling was purely physical, I felt like I was on the right track and even though I couldn't see what was ahead of me, or which turns to take, I trusted Hendrik would push me in the right direction. I trusted him, maybe, more than anything else, because I had no other option. I was hopelessly lost on my own.

I stripped out of my clothes as we headed to bed, adhering to the rules. We crawled under the sheets and Hendrik moved closer to me, crossing the distance between us.

"I love that you wait up for me, 'till I get back from my shift at the bar," He said and then he placed one of his big hands on my chest.

I didn't know why he suddenly touched me, or why he felt the need to say what he did. It was one of the rules, I had to wait up for him. Or rather; I went to bed as soon as he left for work earlier in the evening and sat the alarm clock an hour before he got back to allow myself time to wake myself up with a cup of coffee and freshen up. Only to go straight back to bed with him once he was home, often over an hour, sometimes two hours late.

"I love having you here."

Hendrik used the word 'love' very generously, that much I had noticed. I couldn't help but notice, I couldn't remember any other time that word had been used in my presence, let alone referring to me. I didn't think it made any difference that he never actually said 'I love you'. 'I love having you here', 'I love being with you' and 'I love having you around' boiled down to the same thing, right? That pleased me because if he loved me, maybe he could teach me how to love him.

His hand started moving, rubbing my chest in slow circles, the circles getting wider and wider until his thumb found one of my nipples and started teasing it. He kept staring at my face, his eyes unreadable.

I didn't know what he wanted from me. Things usually went differently if he wanted us to masturbate together or if he wanted me to touch myself while he took pictures of me. He was always very direct. He seemed to understand that I needed to have things explained, because it was all new to me. He enjoyed it more often than it frustrated him.

"Do you want to have sex with me?"

There was that question again. He asked me that question quite frequently. As far as I could remember it was the only question he asked me, everything else he always told me, definitively, sometimes demandingly.

So far, every time he asked, the only answer I could give him was that I didn't know, because I truly didn't. I recognized there was some… disturbance – or a change – in my heart and I definitely noticed a change in my body, especially in the way and the ease with which it expressed its desires, but I didn't know if that meant I wanted to have sex with him. I guessed I had been waiting for the answer to strike me like thunder, I had expected there would be a moment, an epiphany and from that point on I would just know. But there had been no such moment. Still, we had been together for so long by then, and intimate for so long, I should be ready; I should want it.

My body wanted it. I got an erection from just having him touch my chest and look at me like he only ever looked at me when he asked me that question. Softly. I didn't know how else to describe it. It were the only times in the relationship that I felt like I was in control, and I was grateful to him that he allowed me to have that control when it came to sexual intercourse. It reminded me that even though he could be demanding and pushy and needy, he was a kind person and someone I could trust. Yet, I wasn't entirely sure if I wanted this kind of control, because I didn't have a clue about what to do.

Eventually, I answered: "Yes." I just wanted to get it over with, I wanted to know what it would be like, so my answer could be more informed next time.

He smirked and leaned in for a hot kiss. His hand didn't idle, it quickly became more bold, running down my body and wrapping around my arousal, giving it a few playful jerks.

He was good at making my body feel searing hot. Trying not to get too distracted by his kiss nor his intimate touch, I reached down and enveloped his thick erection. I had been daunted by his size ever since he explained to me what he meant exactly when he said 'sex', what he wanted to do with me. I thought penetrative intercourse was exclusively between a man and a women and that sex between two men meant oral sex and just touching each other and rubbing their arousals together. The possibility of anal sex hadn't even dawned on me until he made me aware of it.

Daunting or not, he had promised me that it would feel good, that I would experience immense pleasure at having him inside me. It never occurred to me to argue about positions, he was the experienced one, he knew what to do and what was supposed to happen. I figured that since he was so much bigger than me, it would be more natural for him to the dominant one, the aggressor. Besides, I didn't feel strongly about either position, so why would argue?

"Don't go anywhere," He said with a grin, interrupting the sloppy kiss. He rolled back over to his side and opened his night stand. I heard him rummaged around in it, then he pushed it shut and rolled back to lie flush against me. He reached over to place the item he had retrieved on the nightstand by my side of the bed.

I looked up at the product. A tube of something.

"Lube," he clarified with a grin.

"Shouldn't we use condoms also?" Every school I had been to lectured on abstinence but handed out condoms at the door after every sex-ed class anyway.

"Nooo," he drawled patronizingly. "We don't have to bother with that. You are a virgin and I am clean. You trust me, right?"

I nodded.

"And you are a virgin, right?"

I nodded again.

"Good. Then we don't have to worry about that." His lips descended upon mine, effectively ending the discussion. His hands started wandering anew, there was nothing gentle about his touch, his fingers were tight on my flesh and demanding as he groped me. He briefly went down on me, nothing more than a few long, hard pulls on my length to manipulate my body into ignoring the nervous feeling in my stomach.

He sat up and told me to roll over on my stomach. I did as I was instructed. Then his hands strongly grabbed my hips and he pulled me up on all fours. "Yeah, that's nice," He groaned and he ran his hands over my exposed buttocks.

I couldn't deny that it felt good to have that area touched. As coarse as his fingers were and as rough and indelicate as his touch was, the skin was sensitive and tingled and my groin responded to that.

I watched his hand as he reached past me for the tube of lubrication on the nightstand. By the way the mattress moved I knew he was sitting up on his knees behind me.

"What are you doing?"

He chuckled, "Just making sure I'm nicely lubed up."

I watched as he put the lube back on the night stand.

"Now I am not going to stretch you," He announced. "Because I don't want to ruin your virgin tightness. So it might be a little painful in the beginning," He let out a hearty laugh.

I took a deep breath, noticing that it came out trembling. I didn't know why.

His hands were on my hips again, one of them slick from the lube, he pulled me back towards him.

Without warning he snapped his hips forward and pushed into me all the way.

I had known pain and knew how to handle it, but that pain was unlike anything I had ever felt I couldn't bite back the scream that erupted out of me. I didn't remember a knife or even a bullet ripping through my body hurting that much. I didn't know how to process the unique and intimate kind of pain, I didn't know how to overcome it and Hendrik didn't give me any time to figure it out or adjust to his size. His fingers digging into my hips would leave bruises as he held me still as he rocked back and forth without pause.

I clenched my jaw and my eyes shut, waiting for the pain to pass, after all, Hendrik said it would. But then again, he also said that it would only hurt a little.

When the extreme discomfort did not ease away, I started begging him to stop, with a voice that sounded alien to me. "Please, stop! Stop!" I was so overwhelmed by the sharp stings of pain that went through my body that I didn't think I had the focus nor the strength to physically make him stop. But more importantly, I didn't want to have to make him stop, I wanted him to stop because I asked him to. As he continued, I cried: "Please stop! Ah! Something is not right! It hurts so much!"

"Just give it some time," He ground out and then he placed his big hand on the back of my neck and pushed me down to the mattress, my weakened arms buckling under me.

But I had given it time and it wasn't working. I couldn't explain that to him, however, I lost control over my voice as well as my entire body, I felt paralyzed, although not in the least numb to the pain. All I could do was lie there and bite my lips to stop myself from making pathetic sounds.

For some reason I thought back to the first time Hendrik asked me if I wanted to have sex with him. Right before he asked me that, he asked me if I had wanted to have sex with Duo. I was left to wonder if it would have been the same with Duo, if it would hurt this much and if he, too, wouldn't listen to my pleas.

I could tell by the change in his breaths and in his moans that he was close, meaning that it would soon be over. It didn't matter, I didn't care anymore. I shut myself off. I could still feel the pain, but I faced it the way I was trained to face torture; lock yourself inside, ride out the pain and never reveal any of your secrets.

He came with a final grunt and then rolled off me. Lying on his back, catching his breath, he said between pants: "Next time it will be good for you too."

I didn't think there would be a next time, because next time he would ask me if I wanted to have sex with him, I would say 'no'. Because even though I could handle it, I would never want it.

However Hendrik never asked me again. Instead, it became one of the rules: to let him have sex with me whenever he desired to.

I didn't run from it. I didn't run from him.

Maybe it would just take a while before it would finally feel good and maybe I just had to patiently wait for that moment. Perhaps then I would finally feel love; would finally feel alive.

Or maybe it was just the painful, humiliating torture that I perceived it to be. I couldn't run away from that either. Because if it was then obviously I deserved it. Even though the sex stopped hurting after a while and sometimes my body would even respond favorably at his insistence, it was always torture. Afterwards it left me feeling completely empty, the opposite of what I had been searching for.

In any case, I finally found an answer to Hendrik's question from before. "Did you want him," Duo, "to have sex with you?" Yes, I did. I thought about it many times, to escape from the painful reality of sex with Hendrik. The way Duo had cared for me during the year we lived together between the end of the war and the start of the Mariemeia conflict, I couldn't imagine him being rough or inconsiderate. I didn't think that it wouldn't hurt with Duo, Hendrik made pain appear like an inextricable and overpowering aspect of sex, but I did think Duo would bother to comfort me and care for me afterwards. The way he used to take care of me after battle, or after being fired again from another one of my stupid jobs in that twilight year.

After sex with Hendrik, when he would leave me lying there, my body and mind feeling broken, I would imagine Duo, playing with a lock of my messy hair and telling me everything would be okay. It didn't matter if the dressed wound would still be bleeding, or if my former employee threatened to press charges for assault, he would assure me everything would be fine and even though I hardly ever believed him, I did always appreciate him saying that.

I missed him saying that.

I missed him.

* * *

**AC 206**

I blinked and took a deep breath when I surfaced from an odd but quickly forgotten dream, the only remaining trace of it an uneasy feeling in my stomach. All I could see was Duo's chest as he still had me in his arms. I momentarily listened to his breathing and concluded he was awake. "How long have you been awake?" I asked groggily and I pulled one hand from between our bodies to rub my tired eyes. The room was darker than I remembered it being when we entered. I focused on the curtains and noticed faintly the deep orange light struggling to filter through the thick fabric.

"Something like two hours…" He mumbled, then he buried his nose in my hir and took a deep breath. "Good morning by the way," He said with a soft chuckle.

"Is it morning again already?"

"Hm, no, you didn't sleep that long. It's evening. Around seven o'clock, last time I checked."

"Why didn't you wake me?"

"You needed the rest… and I needed to hold you."

I turned in his arms to lie on my back and took another deep breath.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah… You?"

"I'm good," He let out a rumbling laugh. "this morning was amazing." He kissed the top of my head.

"It was," I agreed.

"Yeah? So no regrets then?" He couldn't hide the worried undertone in his voice.

"No."

"I'm glad," He sighed contently.

"Do you want to hit the road and make up for some lost time before it gets too late?"

"No. I was hoping we would spend the night here."

I was hoping he would say that.

"Heero, I know this doesn't necessarily mean that we can get things back to the way they were, or that you would be willing to keep trying after all I've put you through and with all that is about to happen," He paused poignantly, "But I want to thank you for giving me the chance to show you how much I love you and how much I want to be with you."

"I didn't really give you that chance before, did I?" I looked up at him.

"What do you mean?"

"After you had been with Hilde, we didn't split up because we said we would try to mend things between us. I said that I would try. But I have been running interference ever since."

Duo frowned and waited for me to elaborate.

It was time to share with him what had kept me up that night. It was only fair.

"At first it was about my anger towards you, because I felt like you betrayed me," I paused to swallow a lump in my throat, "But after a while I think it unconsciously became an excuse for me. I didn't allow myself to properly grieve the loss of Leander. I shut myself off and I shut you out."

Duo shook his head. "Heero-"

"Please, don't. It's okay," I said. "I thought that if I could just not to feel it, the way I used to not feel things like that, than I would be okay. To do that, to not feel, I had to lock everything inside. I had to shut you out. It wasn't a conscious decision, it just happened. I let it happen. I pushed you away. I didn't listen to you, I didn't talk to you, I didn't touch you or let you touch me, because I was afraid that it would make me feel the pain. But as things got bottled up in an attempt not to feel, the pain just built inside of me and it was like holding back a loaded spring. It was inevitable that I wouldn't be able to hold the pressure down forever. When it released near the anniversary of his death, I was embarrassed. Embarrassed that I acted that way and that I felt that way. I thought I no longer had the right to be that upset about it anymore. It seemed like you weren't upset anymore. -"

"I was. I was still upset. I still am."

"I know that now…" I assured him a soft tone. I continued to explain: "I couldn't pull the spring back anymore. Everything was up at the surface, raw and exposed. When you told me what had happened between you and Hilde, everything got mixed up; my feelings about two different events became united to the point that I couldn't tell where one ended and where the other began." I looked at him with conflicted eyes. "I abused your mistake to redo the mourning process."

"Heero…"

I frowned at myself. "I've only recently started to realize that the two feelings were different. But still I cannot untangle one from the other, especially with this baby on the way, they're inextricable."

"Heero, it's fine. I understand." He pressed his forehead against my temple.

My voice trembled when I admitted: "Every time I think about you cheating on me, I think about this baby that is the result of that one night. I think about the baby you and Hilde are going to have and then I can't help but think about the baby that you and I lost."

He tightened his arms around me.

"At that point everything becomes such a mess, that I can't process any of it. I can't get past you cheating on me and I can't get past losing Leander. Shit!" I exclaimed when I felt a tear run down my face.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He kept repeating that, softly in my ear. The guilt and pain was evident in his voice.

"Aren't you relieved?" I wondered at his tortured tone of voice.

"Relieved?"

"I'm taking part of the blame. I'm saying it wasn't all on you," I clarified.

"No, Heero, I'm not relieved. I don't want you feel to feel that way. I don't want you to take part of the blame and carry that around on top of everything else. You don't need to. You don't deserve that." He pushed himself up on his elbow so he could look me in the eye. "I take the responsibility. I was the one who made a stupid mistake. You made an honest mistake. You were trying to protect yourself from an unbearable pain."

"Well, two mistakes," I reminded him – as if he needed reminding -, "I pushed you away, which is why you had the affair in the first place, because you were dealing with unbearable pain as well and I left you to fend for yourself. And I then I tortured you because I'm still upset about something that wasn't even your fault, something you are equally upset about."

"Heero, it wasn't your fault. I slept with Hilde, that was my mistake, you can't blame yourself for that," He tried to assure me.

I appreciated that he was trying to protect me from more heartache, but I needed him to know that I even though I couldn't admit it to him before, because I was so lost in and confused by my own anger, I could now. I needed him to know that, he deserved to know that. Part of the blame was mine. I needed him to know that because I didn't want him to be tortured any longer. "It wasn't all your fault," I said, hoping that, someday, it would offer him relief.

"Why are you saying this?" He asked with a concerned frown.

I shrugged. "I needed you to know."

"Why would I need to know? And why now?"

I took a deep breath and then explained to him: "The day before yesterday, when we were in the motel room and you called Hilde back?" I waited for his nod, "I was in the bathroom, but I heard what you said. You said that if you'd lose me, you would be nothing, that you wouldn't be able to be a father for this baby… In case this – us – doesn't work out-"

"Heero," He begged breathlessly, a tormented expression in his eyes.

"Please, let me say this. Let me do this," I begged him. "If we don't work out, if we end up losing each other in this, I need you to know that you do not have to carry the blame by yourself. You don't have to torture yourself over it. I needed to say that because I want you to be able to move on and to be a father to this child; to be the great dad you always wanted to be, the great dad that I know you will be." I looked at him and saw that he was crying.

"I don't want to hear about that," He said with breaking voice after a few moments of silence. "I don't want to be preparing for that. I don't want to lose you. There is no preparing for that… If we don't make it… I am worthless without you."

I felt the same way about him, but I didn't tell him that.

He sat up straight in bed. "What if we just went home? Left this all behind?"

"No Duo," I sat up and shook my head at him. "I appreciate that you want to protect my feelings, but you would only hurt me more if you make me the one thing that takes another baby away from you. I know that even though you feel bad, you want this child… and that is okay. I would never want to take that away from you." I pulled him into a hug when I recognized that he really needed me to and I realized I needed it as well. I shed quiet tears. It was upsetting to be talking about what had happened – between Duo and I as well as between Duo and Hilde - but strangely I was also hit by a sense of calm, at finally being able to understand my emotions.

There was a clarity that did not lighten the burden nor did it lift the shroud of mist and darkness from the path before us, but it illuminated the path that we had traveled and I could see our footprints in the sand and see where our steps had faltered. As horrible and guilty as I felt being confronted with the full extent of my own responsibility, there was also relief. Relief that my husband, my lover and my best friend wasn't the bad person I had made him out to be in the wake of his affair and relief that I was right for never having stopped loving him, whether that would or wouldn't make a difference to our future.

"But," He started, choking up and needing a moment to gather his composure, "You are just saying this in case, right? You think we can still make it, right?"

I sighed against his neck. "I don't know."

I had always genuinely hoped that we could, even though I wasn't being exactly helpful to the cause. I didn't want to end our relationship over one stupid and maybe even understandable mistake. Duo cheated, but our love was stronger than that, we could handle that, so we weren't allowed to give up. But matters were more complicated between us than a one-night affair. Our relationship suffered a tragedy that preceded and exceeded an affair.

Friends had warned us. Some couples come together, others grow apart. I was the one who made us part of the latter group, when I selfishly let myself slip away, to protect myself from the heart ache, leaving Duo on his own – I was there, in the same house, yet I wasn't really there.

Maybe what we had been trying to salvage for the past nine months – with the determination that an affair would not end us – was a mere afterimage of a relationship, the way a bright light was still visible on your retina even once you had closed your eyes and were in darkness.

We were in darkness since Valentine's day, AC 205. The day our son was born and also the day our son had died. Maybe 'we' had died that day as well, because I felt like part of me had died. The part of me that was confident that I would never be the soldier again, that I would never be numb inside again, let alone want to be. The part of me that made 'us' work, it seemed. Because 'us' hadn't been working since then. I didn't know how to bring back that part of me, it was such a struggle to find it in the first place.

The relationship that we tried to save was a relationship that was broken a long time ago, between two people that have been broken a long time ago. But we had both closed our eyes to that and had indulged in the illusion that we would make it, if we could just get through this.

But the afterimage was fading and all that would be left was darkness.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Loneliest Road**

**Chapter 8**

_\- Don't bother asking for directions. Nobody knows where they are going. -_

* * *

The air in the cheap motel room was stale, my mouth was dry. It was only late afternoon but outside it was dark, thick rainclouds had rolled over the landscape and sheets of water plummeted onto the cracked ground and baking asphalt. Droplets rifled against the windowpane like someone feverishly knocking to be let in. I could barely look outside, the rain poured so heavily down the glass that everything beyond was distorted beyond recognition. Our car was nothing but a formless swipe of mint green on a canvas consisting mostly of dark greys and muted blues.

The door opened after I had already pinpointed familiar footsteps coming up the walkway.

Duo stood on the doormat and shook water off his coat and out of his hair, much like a dog. He set the grocery bag, with the gas-station logo on it, down on the floor and patted more droplets off his clothes.

"It's crazy," He mumbled. "I talked to the cashier and he said the rainstorm stretches for miles along the highway and won't let up for a while." He shook his coat off his shoulders and sat down on the bed with the groceries in his lap, rummaging through them.

We had planned to leave the motel early that morning. The first of the rain started to fall as we took turns taking showers and got dressed. By the time we were ready to leave we hurried over to the car in the pouring rain, only to discover that the removable canvas roof of the convertible was as waterproof as a sieve. The droplets steadily made their way through the degraded material. The inside of the car was soaking wet. Neither of us realized it until we sat down in the pools in both leather seats and got our asses wet. Clearly driving with rivulets of rain coming down on us was not something we would enjoy. Seeing as we were far ahead of schedule, we quickly made the unanimous decision to wait the storm out, figuring that a freak rainstorm like that couldn't last all that long.

The first hour or two we waited at the picnic table under the elongated roof of the gas station. When the rain hadn't let up by then, we paid to have a room for another day and night, to have a place to wait out the storm in privacy, still expecting to be able to leave relatively soon. We certainly didn't think we would be spending the night, but apparently the motel thought itself too classy to rent by the hour.

But the afternoon was getting late, coming to an end and Duo had gone out to get food and drinks to prepare for dinner. Of the two of us I was the most anxious to get out of there. Being in that very room – it was actually a different room than the one we spent the night in, but it looked exactly the same – reminded me of the heartfelt conversation of the previous night and our lovemaking before that. It made my heart feel heavier still. Duo's heartbroken voice still echoed in my ears. I wished more than anything to have an answer that would console him, I wished I felt confident that we could make it. But I didn't know what was going to happen, I anticipated that once we would reach Washington D.C. the whole situation would just become more unbearable to me. How could I possibly stay with Duo, stay by his side and watch him raise a child – a child we desperately wanted – knowing that it was not ours, not mine, but theirs.

Even if what Duo said was true, that he didn't love Hilde the way he loved me, there was always something that connected the two – something that made her risk her life for him, something that made him go live with her after the war, something that drove him to her after our most horrible fight - and once that child would be born there always would be something that connected them. That child would call him 'daddy' and would call her 'mommy'. Their mutual love for that child would bond them for a lifetime, regardless of whether or not it was a romantic bond. How could I stand there and be witness to that? How could I watch him share this beautiful thing with the woman we once thought he loved and clearly cared for deeply, still. Watch them share that same thing that I had wanted to share with him and was once going to; that beautiful thing that ended up being very ugly to us, in the way that it ended, or rather: in the way that it never was.

But then again, how could I ever not be with him? He was such an inextricable part of me. I truly felt that without his presence by my side, I would not be me, I would be an incomplete version of myself, missing the very best parts of myself: my love for him and how I was when I was with him.

"Look what I got for dessert."

I turned my gaze away from the window and looked at him holding up two candy bars, one of which being my favorite chocolate and caramel treat, which was no coincidence.

"They didn't have yours at the gas station but they were in the vending machine down the hall." He seemed very pleased with his find and worked hard expressing that, to lighten the mood, which had been dark and dreary like the rain storm, ever since yesterday.

"What's the main course?"

"Well, sir, the specials of the day are a turkey sandwich with a side salad and a banana and a tuna sandwich, also with side salad, and an apple."

"Wonderful," I accepted the turkey sandwich, small salad and banana. "Please give my compliments to the chef."

We ate our dinner in silence. There were only two kinds of words that could have been spoken and neither appealed to either of us. There were the empty words with which we vainly pretended that everything was alright, although we were aware we could fool neither ourselves nor the other. And there were the true words, not always harsh but somehow always painful. They had already been said, there was no sense for us to suffer that pain once more.

When we were done I gathered up the plastic wrappings, the apple core and the banana peel in the plastic grocery bag and announced that I would be throwing it away in a trash bin outside, just so the small left-overs wouldn't start to fill the room with their smell.

In spite of the rain it was a relief to be outside. The downpour had cooled the air that was gently stirred by a soft breeze, the same soft breeze that made the rainclouds pass so terribly slowly.

I breathed in the smell of rain, it felt like the first breath of fresh air in too long a time. I headed towards the trash bin just outside the motel room at the very end of the walkway, that had been converted into lobby with reception desk. I idled about for a little bit. From afar I studied the convertible, not knowing what to feel. Was I grateful that the mint green monstrosity had stayed my execution for one more day? Or did it leave me impatient? After all, there was limited difference between an inevitable end one day and an inevitable end the other day.

It did truly feel like an end, I acknowledged. Whether or not Duo and I could manage to stay to together, everything would change, regardless. Duo would change. He would not be the Duo I needed him to be, the Duo that completed me, the Duo that was the better part of me. He would be the Duo that his child needed him to be and the Duo that the mother of his child needed him to be. For that I could hardly blame him. I had denied it in dark episodes of grief and anger, but Duo was a good person, in spite of what his mistake had done to me and to us. He would be torn between doing what would be right for us and what would be right for them – for Hilde and for their child. Eventually, the child would have to come first, he would resist it at first, out of loyalty to me, but I knew him to be the kind of man who would become a father who would sacrifice anything for the wellbeing and happiness of his child. Wrong as it was, I would be consumed with jealousy, I knew. I had become selfish like that, because I needed him, of that I was well aware.

After all, what was I without him? The type of person I had been without him, I did not like. I started as a stoic soldier, an analytical, soulless being who, once free of the duty of war, became a survivor in the most primal, least humane way possible. I even killed a man, because those were my instincts, years of training that I could not suppress manifested itself as shadows in my heart, making the distinction between right and wrong invisible to me. Next, I treated myself as an experiment, naïve to think that someone would prod or prick me in such a way as to bring me to life. In search of answers I let a man control me, I let a man touch me, I let a man rape me. Over and over.

That was what I was without Duo. Weak, barely human, tainted. Part killer, part victim. The possibility that I would revert back to that sickened me, but a possibility it was, if not a probability. All that separated me from being that dark shadow of an actual person was my love for Duo and his love for me and our life together, as one. I needed him. It had taken me a while to realize that, but once the realization hit it was a powerful thing.

* * *

**AC 198**

The sound of a cluster of heavy keys being dropped right outside the apartment door startled me out of a deep sleep, filled with dreams – dreams of Duo. I had been dreaming of him a lot lately. I enjoyed those dreams and disliked them being interrupted.

I shot upright in the big bed in the center of the space, darkness all around me, but my senses were keen. The keys scratched the concrete floor as they were picked up by a lazy, uncoordinated hand. On the other side of the door someone mumbled.

Of course it was Hendrik.

I shot a glance at the alarm clock. He was home early, the alarm hadn't even had the chance to wake me in time to prepare myself. Hendrik loathed it when I wasn't up, waiting for him. He made it clear to me how selfish it was of me not to welcome him back after he spent the night earning money to take care of me.

With movements as fast and precise as the attack of a rattle snake I switched off the alarm so it wouldn't go off later and leaped out of bed towards the nearest light switch.

Cold, industrial light flooded the grey-toned studio apartment.

On my way to the kitchen table, where I usually waited for him, I paused briefly by the floor to ceiling mirror and ran a hurried hand through my hair to tame the wayward mop, at least to a degree where it wasn't obvious I had been tossing and turning – and moaning no doubt – in bed for the last few hours.

Sex dreams about Duo were common. Luckily I had never said his name aloud in my sleep in the presence of Hendrik. Although Hendrik used to encourage me to open up about the 'relationship' I had with the braided American, it quickly appeared that he had heard enough and he didn't like me speaking of Duo in any context any more. I had no doubt he would not appreciate finding out I had sexual thoughts of my former comrade. Not mentioning him became one of the new rules, introduced promptly during a conversation when I was reminiscing about the silly things Duo would do to get my attention – of course never revealing to Hendrik how we met and what we were doing spending all that time together. It was a difficult rule to obey, because the subject of Duo was pretty much all I was interested in talking about. But Hendrik said Duo made the choice to be free of me, so I should choose to be free of him.

It made sense, even if it caused an inexplicable pain in my chest. It seemed that I missed him. My affections for my former comrade were stronger than ever, I caught myself thinking of him and dreaming of and speaking of him – to myself in the lonely loft – more often than I could ever safely admit to Hendrik. I presumed Hendrik breathing life into my sexually had awakened some kind of formerly dormant attraction to Duo. I remembered different things about him now than I used to, like how his clothes fit him and how his chestnut hair glistened bronze in the sunsets we had quietly shared. I had never consciously noticed those details before, but I must have been paying attention to them, for them to be available to my memory.

Enough already, I inwardly berated myself. Sometimes when Hendrik looked at me an irrational fear crept over me that he could tell my mind was elsewhere; in shared dorm rooms and cold space crafts.

I took my seat at the kitchen table just as the door swung open and Hendrik stumbled in.

In the first couple of weeks he never came home drunk from work, but lately it had been a rule rather than an exception.

I rose from the chair and approached him by way of routine. Once I was within reach of him he reached out big, greedy hands and grasped me at my waist and pulled me against him. He buried his nose in my hair and inhaled deeply. How he was able to smell anything other than the alcohol on his breath was a mystery to me.

"Hmmm," He groaned appreciatively.

I stopped myself from wincing. His fingers were digging into my sides painfully.

"Did you like the latest pictures?" He asked, grinding his hips against me, making his erection apparent.

"They are very good," I replied, even though I still did not understand his hobby, let alone was able to qualify what was good or bad.

"I know they are good," He slurred with a chuckle of hot breath against my neck as he started to kiss me all over. "But did you like them?"

Not knowing in the least what he wanted from me, I just said: "Of course." I didn't really know what I thought of the pictures or what I was supposed to think. As always, they were just pictures of me, naked, in most I was having sex with him, in some I was masturbating at his request and in others I was doing mundane household chores. They didn't mean anything to me. They didn't make me think anything. They didn't make me feel anything.

It was clear though that Hendrik thought they were all very special and frequently he would print out his favorites and leave them on the coffee table for me to see while he went to the bar to work. I didn't think it would be right to insult his hobby by stating my apathy for the pictures.

"My favorite is the one where you are on all fours and I'm pounding my big dick into you."

I searched my memory for the image of that particular photo. I had really only briefly glanced at the latest set, completely disinterested. I did remember the picture he was talking about. What struck me as odd was that my face wasn't in that picture – it was just my ass, my sweaty back and the back of my head. I didn't know what that meant or why that stood out to me, but there it was, the realization that he liked me best without my face.

"You have such a tiny waist," He growled, clutching at my sides. "And such an awesome ass," He punctuated his statement by moving his hands down and squeezing my behind.

Even though I thought they were compliments, I didn't really care for them. I much preferred and promptly remembered the compliments Duo would give, about my intelligence, my agility and my combat skills.

"Aren't you going to thank me for complimenting you?" He insisted.

"Sorry. Thank you."

"Uh uh. That won't do. I know how you can thank me." He pushed me back and looked into my eyes hungrily. "Take off your clothes and go lie on the bed."

"On my back or on my stomach?" I questioned monotonously. Usually he instructed me to lie on my stomach, because we almost exclusively had sex with my back towards him, hardly ever face to face. I thought of the picture again, the picture of my back. Strange, why would I still be thinking about that?

"On your back," He answered curtly.

I raised an eyebrow in surprise but didn't question his decision. I moved back to the bed I had jumped out of only a short while ago, shedding my clothes as I went. I still preferred to sleep in my underwear and a T-shirt when Hendrik wasn't present to enforce the rule of sleeping in the nude.

I lay myself down on the bed, on my back, my knees bent and raised, my feet planted firmly on the mattress, slightly apart so he could sit between my legs. I stared up at the ceiling and listened to him struggling to get out of his clothes, losing myself to my thoughts and brief flashes of a pleasant dream that had been disrupted. My entire body stiffened when his heavy belt buckle fell to the floor right by the bed and surprised me.

Hendrik stepped out of his jeans and climbed onto the bed, between my legs. With his long, muscled arm he reached over and got the tube of lube from the nightstand where it was always handy. He poured a liberal amount into his hand and rubbed it over his sizeable arousal and with his slippery fingers he wiped along my opening.

I was not even close to being aroused, but that was not a requirement for the submissive partner during sex, so Hendrik assured me. After the first few times he never bothered to get me hard or in the mood, though that didn't necessarily mean I didn't enjoy it. I usually got hard after a while and he never made any protests when I reached down to relieve myself. I hardly ever found my release before he was long done but it would feel like a welcome relief when I would come, with him lying next to me, panting from previous exertion.

Sitting back on his calves he grabbed my hips and pulled me down the bed towards him and raised my ass into his lap. Without much ado he pushed into me, letting out a raspy moan.

The pain from the coupling was something I was familiar with and used to. The discomfort of the position he had me in, with my shoulders on the bed, but my lower body raised up, was something I feared I wouldn't be able to get past. My lower back throbbed painfully with each powerful thrust.

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to distance myself from the pain. I searched my mind for something to distract me and the image of Duo came to mind unbidden. Although ashamed to be thinking of the former Gundam Pilot while having sex with someone else, I welcomed the vision.

He was smiling at me, the way only Duo had ever smiled at me. He was never uncomfortable around me, or at a loss of words. I never intimidated him, not even when I intended to. He wasn't frightened, nor put off by my stoic personality. Sometimes – I dared to think – he sought me out specifically to enjoy my quiet presence. And this was one of those times. In the vision I was in a bedroom. It looked like those dorms where we spent so much time, but it didn't look like one in particular, more like a blend: the wall color from one school, the desk from another, the high ceilings from yet another. It didn't matter. He came into my room and smiled at me.

"Ohhh! Heero!" Hendrik ground out.

His voice was but a mere whisper coming through a comfortable, protective mist.

Duo walked up to me. I was sitting on the bed, I didn't know why. Bright sunlight was pouring in through stained glass windows so it was clearly daytime, no time for me to be sitting on the bed.

Duo sat next to me. Close. Very close. Close enough for our shoulders and our knees to touch. He did that often when we were alone. I never understood why.

"I always thought of you as more than a friend," Duo whispered in my ear with hot breath. He told me that in the hospital in Luxembourg, but now, for some reason, he was telling me in my sleepless dream.

"What does that mean?" I asked him, like I wish I had in that hospital room. Because I didn't know what that meant back then. I had a better understanding of it now – although not completely -, because I had come to realize I liked him more than a friend too. What exactly that entailed still eluded me, but I knew it involved touching and kissing and I liked that.

"It means this," Duo said with a grin and he gently took hold of my chin to tilt my face as his lips neared mine.

Heat and cold shot through me at the same time when our lips met. I arched my back and moaned in response.

"Oh yeah, pretty doll," Hendrik grunted. "You like that, don't you?"

Hendrik didn't exist to me. I was in the past, before I had ever met him. Only Duo existed. Only Duo mattered.

Duo's hand released my chin and trailed down the length of my throat to my chest, that was mostly exposed by my ill-fitting tank top. One by one he slid the straps off my shoulders with sensuous caresses of the sensitized skin. The top slipped down to my midriff, the bands around my elbows. He placed his hand, digits spread out, on the center of my chest, on my sternum. The heat from his palm and the very tips of his fingers caused me to break the kiss to moan softly. Then his hand moved to the left and his thumb flicked a nipple. I moaned again, louder this time and overcome with pleasurable sensations I captured his mouth with mine, seeking more.

"Pretty doll," A deep voice whispered.

"Ohh, give me more!" I begged, unabashedly needy.

"Yesss…" Someone eagerly hissed in response.

"Ah!" I gasped when Duo's warm hand against my chest pushed me down to lie flat on the bed. He lay down too, half next to me, half on top of me; one thigh between my legs.

"I'll give you everything you need," Duo said kindly, placing kisses down my neck. "Everything you want."

"I want you!" I was practically sobbing in this vision. My heart clenched and my fingertips ached.

"Hmmm, you're not usually so vocal. I like it."

How Duo managed to speak while his tongue continuously teased one of my nipples was beyond me but I wasn't about to question anything.

"Say my name," He requested, pausing his ministrations to look up at me mischievously. His fingers started toying with both my nipples simultaneously.

I was embarrassed to, biting my lower lips to prevent an obscene amount of moans and whimpers from escaping me.

"Say my name."

I shuddered with pleasure. "Duo," I whispered. As soon as I said his name I realized how good it felt coming from my lips, so with more passion I exclaimed his name again: "Duo!"

A sudden, stinging pain in my cheek drew me out of that unspecified dorm room and I found myself laying on my back in a mostly concrete studio apartment in the Netherlands, Hendrik towering over me, his hand – with which he had slapped me across the face – was still in the air.

My eyes were wide, I recognized I was frightened, a mostly unfamiliar sensation. I drew in sharp breaths through my nose as I otherwise lay perfectly still, staring up at him. Hendrik looked very angry. He was still between my legs, still inside me, his other hand, on my hips, would leave dark bruises as it gripped at the slightly protruding bone.

His open hand slapped me again. He could have hurt me more by forming his hand into a fist, but I think the purpose was not only to hurt me but also to demean me, by slapping me.

"How dare you," He seethed. He brought both his hands up and wrapped them around my neck, the grip getting tighter and tighter as he anger failed to fade. "How dare you!"

I remained still, even as it became more difficult to breathe. I didn't know what he wanted of me, I had the suspicion apologizing would only belittle my mistake in his eyes and make him all the more enraged.

"I told you to never say his name ever again!" He shouted. Then his voice became eerily calm. "And yet now, of all times, you say it? Are you stupid? Do you want me to kill you?"

Maybe, I thought with a slight frown. I didn't know.

"Because I could kill you right now."

I gasped once and then my airway was completely cut off. I could easily free myself from his grip, but I wasn't sure if I should and if I wanted to. Maybe I should die.

"You shouldn't ever speak of that filthy rat. He is a worthless piece of shit who is too stupid to appreciate a fine ass when it's right there," He growled.

My gaze steeled.

"He is a fucking idiot who should be taught some lessons himself."

Something was growing in my chest. My eyes narrowed and Hendrik continued to insult Duo, saying horrible things about him that I knew weren't true. I didn't like him saying those things about Duo. I didn't like it at all! He shouldn't be saying that! It wasn't true!

I brought my hands up and encircled his thick wrists with my fingers. Hendrik was strong, he was a big man, but as my resentment for his baseless accusations continued to grow I found the strength to pull his hands away from my throat and I could finally breathe and talk again. "Don't speak of him like that!"

Hendrik was surprised at my strength and angry at me talking back. "He is worthless and you know it. I hope someone fucking kills him up on L2. Stab him and leave him for dead like a diseased rat. I wish I was there to kill him, but not before I fucked this weak pussy until he pleaded me to end his miserable life!"

"Get out!" I screamed hoarsely and started to fight his hands more sincerely. "GET OUT!"

All this time Hendrik had still been inside me, still erect, leading me to believe he was actually enjoying choking me and talking shit about Duo.

When he wouldn't oblige I drew my knees up to my chest and planted my feet against his abdomen. With one powerful move I thrust him back, causing him to fall over the footboard and off the bed. I was enraged, I realized, something I had never experienced before. I wanted to kill Hendrik for the awful things he had said about Duo. I got to my feet and rushed over to him while he was still on his back on the floor, groaning from the impact. I fell to my knees, straddling him. That moment, I wasn't myself, I was convinced. I was standing across the room, watching this version of Heero ball his hands into fists and starting to hit Hendrik in the face.

Hendrik fought back against Heero, but the first blow that impacted his skull already left him dazed and weakened and in spite of his advantage of being bigger and likely much stronger than Heero, he couldn't fight him off. After a few weak blows to Heero's stomach, his big hands fell to his sides and he became unresponsive.

Heero kept hitting him and screaming and I watched with growing horror.

I was sucked back into my own body and I found myself sitting on top of an unconscious Hendrik, exhausted, my bloodied knuckles hurting and tears streaming down my face. With shaky legs I climbed off his big body and fell to the floor next to him. I coughed and gagged and then threw up what little I had in my stomach. The sudden surge of emotions was so powerful my entire body was affected. I was overcome with a paradox. More than anything I wanted Duo to be there, to hold me, to comfort me. Yet at the same time I would never want him to see me like that, so dirty and vile; an abused, angry animal.

"I always thought of you as more than a friend," Duo's soothing voice whispered in my head.

I finally truly understood what he meant, because I felt it too. I wanted to be with him. I wanted to wrap my arms around him. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted our bodies to be one and for him to erase that I was ever one with Hendrik. The feelings were so strong I knew they surpassed mere physical desires.

There it was. I finally felt something. I had felt rage and now I felt longing, a longing so strong that I wouldn't be surprised if it was what people called love. I was alive. I was feeling. It hurt, but at the same time, it was incredible.

It turned out that although I was misguided, I had not been mistaken in thinking Hendrik was my only hope at feeling. It hadn't happened the way I had expected, but it was a welcome relief nonetheless.

I had to see him. I had to see Duo. If this is what he felt for me, now that I felt this way for him we had to be together. I had to tell him that he was more than a friend to me too. I had to tell him that I understood now, that I was ready now! I needed him close to me.

Determined not to let this epiphany fade away I decided that I had to follow through.

I got up from the floor and checked the still unconscious Hendrik. He was going to be fine, although in a lot of pain once he would wake up. I had broken his jaw and his left eye socket. I covered him up with a blanket and then started to dress myself and packing the remainder of my clothing in my trusty old duffel bag. The printed photographs I burned in the marble bathroom sink and then I hacked into his computers and removed all images of myself, using a program I had used many times during the war I was even able to remove the pictures of myself that I discovered to have been put onto some voyeuristic porn sight. I doubted Hendrik would bring the police into this, seeing as he was a cocaine dealer on the side and his job at the bar clearly didn't cover the expenses of the loft, but to be sure I had to erase all images of me. DNA traces and fingerprints didn't concern me, seeing as I didn't actually exist. There was no record of me. But a picture might possibly be useful to identify me.

I took a handful of money from Hendrik's secret stash of drug money, enough to pay for a train ticket to the Rotterdam spaceport and a shuttle ticket to L2. Right before I left I called emergency services so Hendrik would quickly receive medical attention.

In a matter of a couple of hours I was at the Rotterdam spaceport with a ticket in my hand, seated on one of the benches, waiting for the next flight out. I would have to wait seven hours. I was anxious to get there, eager to see his face and to hear his voice. I was nervous also, I could use the waiting period and the long flight to figure out what I was going to say, if I would ever even be able to find the right words. I could barely get my thoughts in order, emotions that I didn't know I was capable of had been unleashed and governed me, derailing any rational train of thought that might attempt to cut through the minefield of conflicting and confusing emotions.

I fidgeted with the strap of my duffel bag, which was small enough for me to be allowed to take with me as carry-on luggage. My whole life was in that bag and it was embarrassingly meager, but it dawned on me that I carried much heavier baggage with me than a couple of sets of fresh clothes. Maybe it wasn't right to confront Duo with that weight, there were probably many reasons why I should have walked out of that spaceport, but Rationale can't argue with Emotion, let alone win, because Emotion cheats.

"Shuttle M-42115 to L2 spaceport B will now start boarding. Please have your boarding passes at hand."

I looked up at the announcement and was a little shocked when I only then noticed that the skies outside had grown dark except for the bright disc of the moon. Much time had passed without me even being aware of it. Numbly I rose to my feet and retrieved my boarding pass from an outer pocket of my bag. I joined the line that had formed at the gate and slowly shuffled towards the front desk. The line wasn't very long. Even after all the time that had passed, L2 was still an unpopular destination. The ticket had been ridiculously cheap, something I had not expected.

"Have a nice flight, sir," A proper lady said and handed me back my boarding pass. "A flight attendant at the door will show you to your seat."

I nodded and said my thanks, although I was confident I could perfectly well find seat 26-C by myself.

The flight attendant at the shuttle door pointed me in the direction of my seat with a sweet smile and a polite greeting. I stuffed my bag into the overhead compartment and sagged into the second-class aisle-seat of the relatively small space shuttle. Sweaty palms gripped the armrests. I never liked flying when I wasn't personally at the controls – a clear trust-issue -, with the exception of Duo, but only after I had observed he was an excellent pilot; a case could be made that he was better than me concerning the finesse of flying a space craft.

The man and woman next to me looked to be an older couple. The man looked at my hands – betraying my apprehension – and then looked up at me with a smile that was meant to soothe me, but he was unable to ease my mind.

"First time flying, laddie?"

"No," I replied curtly. My nervousness for the flight was compounded with my nervousness about seeing Duo again and collectively the feeling left me a bit queasy.

Take-off, flight and landing was uneventful, even when passing through the atmosphere we were met with little turbulence. I swiftly made my way through customs at the nearly deserted spaceport. L2 really wasn't a place where many people liked to be.

Using an online directory I quickly located the scrapyard where I trusted Duo would still be. It was one of only two scrapyards and, being owned by Hilde's uncle, had her last name in it. Still having plenty of money left I took a taxi to the address. It turned out to be only a short ride from the spaceport.

Within the colony it was dark. There were few streetlights and many buildings that we passed appeared to be abandoned. At least the cab driver wasn't interested in small-talk, for which I was grateful. He kept his mouth busy sucking on the thick cigar in the corner of his mouth, blue smoke filling the front of the car on the other side of the plastic partition. The car jolted to a sudden stop in front of a tall iron bar gate. A single floodlight in the distance illuminated a mountain of scrap metal but for the most part the yard was completely dark. Just beyond the gate was a little building, it appeared to be several shipping containers stacked on top of each other, creating office space, with makeshift doors and windows cut into the steel walls. At the top of the narrow staircase, in the top container, a light was on.

I stared at it, wondering if he could be right there, just sitting there. My heart pounded.

"What are you waiting for?" The driver demanded gruffly, his speech a little awkward with the heavy cigar pinched between his lips. "Pay me and get the fuck out!"

I pushed the right amount of bills through the opening in the partition and then jumped out of the car. I shut the door quietly, not ready yet to alert whoever it was up there to my presence. I had to gather my composure first.

I stood before the gate and looked up at the barbed wire coiled around the top, a single streetlight looking down on me from beyond the grizzly deterrent to burglars. I took hold of the cold bars and peered into the darkness. I could see nothing but the vague shapes of mounds of scrapped material, with only the tallest one in the distance, at about the center of the yard, being illuminated.

I blinked when I felt something wet hit my cheek. Surely I wasn't crying? Another drop fell, to my chin and then I felt more, on the top of my head and on my shoulders. Apparently that night, of all nights, the weather system of L2 was set to the periodical rain to irrigate what little nature there was left growing in the colony and – perhaps more so – to provide its residents the comforting illusion that their colony was just as good as earth, in all its freshness and unpredictability.

Before long I was soaked and I imagined so must be the inside of my duffel bag that I had sat down at my feet, but I couldn't bring myself to take action, yet. I had vastly underestimated how difficult this was going to be, even though I had previously thought the opposite. While waiting in the Rotterdam spaceport and during the flight, I had been convinced I was overreacting.

A shape that moved through the dark startled me and in a hurry I decided to call out. I had to do something at some point. "Hello?" I focused my eyes on the figure that froze a few feet away from the gate. I couldn't see much, only that the tall person had the collar of his or her jacket pulled all the way over their head in an attempt to stay moderately dry in the unexpected downpour. I could hear the heavy drops of water from the overhead irrigation system hit the canvas material of the jacket.

Facing a lack of response I explained: "I'm looking for someone."

The person adjusted the jacket to the way it should be worn, apparently no longer caring about getting wet and started towards me.

Although I still couldn't see much of the figure other than the silhouette, my heart started pounding. My hands slipped from the bars and I took a step back. I was still in the light of the streetlamp and I waited for the other to step into the light as well, but from the way my stomach inexplicably felt, visual recognition was only a formality at that point. "Duo?" My question sounded hopeful. I had never heard my voice like that.

Finally he stepped into the beam of light that drew a circle on the wet ground, with the shadow of the gate cutting through the center.

"Duo." Not a question that time, but a breath of relief as I laid eyes on him.

He stood still, shell-shocked, and I drank the sight of him, completely caught off guard by how amazing it was to just see him again.

He was taller than I remembered, he had outgrown me by about a foot. He was more muscular too, he must have been doing a lot of physical work. He dressed differently as well; underneath the navy blue jacket he wore a simple white T-shirt, with perhaps the scrapyard logo somewhere, underneath the open coat. His long legs were dressed in baggy jeans that were tucked into big, steel toed shoes. His posture was sturdy, if a little hesitant, his broad shoulders erased his previous, boyish quality.

But his face was exactly the way I remembered it and for that I was glad. He still looked young and open, with big honest eyes and long bangs framing his face – now sticking to his forehead, heavy with rain.

I realized he was taking in the sight of me the same way I was studying him and I became self-conscious although I tried to be aloof. I wondered what he saw. I hoped not too much. I hoped he would just look into my eyes and recognized me as someone he used to consider as "more than a friend".

"Heero, what… How… I don't understand," He stammered as he stepped closer to the gate, clearly in a daze.

His voice was deeper than in my memories, it caused a novel tingle to travel down my spine, then settle in my stomach. "I needed to see you." I said a little sheepishly, worried that my presence may not be appreciated.

"No, don't think you're unwelcome!" He assured me, as if he'd read my mind. "I'm happy to see you. Very happy! I'm just… surprised."

He was very near to the gate now and with each step that he had come closer my heart had started beating more wildly.

"To be honest, when you dropped off the grid I didn't think I would ever hear from you again…" He sounded forlorn. "God. It's so great to see you," His gaze moved up and down my body. I must have looked horrible, disheveled and tired, but his eyes seemed to enjoy the sight. "Wait right here, I'm going to get the key for the gate."

"Wait!" I said before he could move away.

His eyes were questioning.

"I have something to say and it's probably best to just say it now, right away."

"But… but the keys are right up there," He nodded towards the converted container where the light was on.

"No, it's better this way." I stepped back up to the gate and held the bars.

Duo stepped closer as well. Concern was evident on his features.

"I've been thinking a lot about you," I started, "These past two years."

"I've been thinking a lot about you!" He returned enthusiastically. "I've missed you! I've looked for you! I'm so happy to see you again!"

A smile appeared on my lips at his genuine kindness.

Duo fell silent and he stared at me. "And I'm even happier to see you smile…" He remarked and stepped up to the gate. He was so close now, if the gate hadn't been between us I would have probably deemed it inappropriate and likely so would he have.

"It's a recent development. I'm only smiling because I'm so happy to see you."

He smiled back at me warmly.

"I've been… I've been looking for something." I struggled to find the right words to express myself and speaking was made all the more difficult by my constricting throat. Not even when Hendrik was choking me – the bruises invisible in the shadow under my jaw - did I feel so much like I was suffocating to death. "I was looking for something – no: someone, someone who would make me feel. Who would bring me to life."

A deep frown formed on his face and he looked almost sad, but resigned.

"And today I finally realized that I did find that person."

He started nodding slowly, looking away.

"It's you," I confessed.

His gaze snapped back up at me. To say he was shocked was to resort to euphemisms.

"In the hospital you said that you had always thought of me as more than a friend. I didn't really know what that meant. But I know now. I understand. I feel it too," I rushed to explain. To say the words was a relief. "I wasn't ready then, I didn't know how to get myself to feel, but I feel now. I'm ready. And maybe it is meant to be, for us to be together. It just took me a while to catch up with you. I-" I paused, nearly out of breath. "I think I love you."

Duo reverted back to a state of pure shock at my outpour of emotionally laden words.

Worried that I had failed to convey the depth of my feelings with my inadequate, unpracticed words, I slipped a hand through the bars of the gate and wrapped it around the back of his neck, pulling his face towards me and I met him half way. Our lips met between the iron bars and I kissed him desperately and passionately. He kissed me back, although just barely, he seemed to be holding back, he seemed to be distracted, but my heart leapt regardless.

We parted and he whispered my name solemnly.

"I love you," I stated firmly. I was certain. "I need to be with you."

He sighed. He was clearly torn between elation and regret. "Heero…" He repeated and then he looked down.

My heart started beating even faster, but not in the pleasant way it had before.

"I've wanted nothing more than to hear you say that…" He trailed off.

But? My heart clenched painfully.

"I'm with Hilde," Duo said and he unconsciously looked up at the single light in the top container.

Hilde. I suddenly felt sick to my stomach. I hadn't even thought of her in all honesty. I thought that when Duo said he had always thought of me as more than a friend, that it meant he always would. I had believed that my inability to connect with my emotions and with others was all that stood in our way. But of course… Hilde. And she was right up there!

How could I have expected him not to move on, after I pushed him away and never contacted him again, breaking my promise to him? And how misguided of me to think that Duo would choose me over Hilde! I am but damaged goods, in need of his attentive repair. I cannot give him anything, how could I possibly hope to compare with Hilde?

I took a step back. "I understand."

Duo started shaking his head. "No… Heero. Please. Let me get the key to the gate."

"No," I said decisively. "Don't bother." I reached down for my duffel bag.

"No! Heero, don't go! Please!"

I ignored his heartfelt pleads, his rattling of the gate and him cursing at it, and I started running. I had to get away from him. When there had still been hope, being in his presence had been the most amazing sensation I had ever experienced. With my hope crushed, I couldn't stand to be near him. It was painful.

I had always imagined how wonderful it would be if I would finally be able to feel true emotions. I thought I would feel alive, invigorated and empowered, but I just felt pain.

Yet at least… at least I loved enough to hurt.

I finally had what I wanted – part of it at least – although it was not the way I had hoped. But maybe it was the way it was supposed to be and I should still be grateful. Maybe to hurt was better than to not feel at all, although I didn't think it at that moment, with the pain in my chest so astoundingly intense. Maybe to be incomplete is better than to be completely void, although I was never more sorely aware of the emptiness than I was then.

With nowhere else to go but back to the spaceport, that's where my feet took me. Feeling exposed and embarrassed in the bright overhead lights I hurriedly found a public restroom to wash the tears from my face and relieve the soreness of my reddened eyes.

The only other man present looked at me oddly, but thankfully he left me alone.

I didn't dare to look at myself in the mirror. I dried my face and headed back out. I took a seat on one of the benches by the front façade of the spaceport, my shoulders slouched, my hands limp in my lap.

I couldn't stay there, not on that bench and not on L2. I accepted that if I had to be anywhere alone, I preferred to be alone on earth, so I approached the desk and inquired about the costs of the next flight out to earth. I could afford it, if only just. "I'd like a ticket, please."

The lady looked at me with a pensive frown, she could probably tell I had been upset.

I paid her in cash and she printed out the boarding pass after inspecting my expertly forged passport. "The space shuttle headed to the San Francisco spaceport leaves in four hours, departing from gate seven. That way." She pointed in the general direction.

"Thank you." I walked through the quiet spaceport towards gate seven where I took a seat.

I had no idea what I was going to do once I arrived back on Earth, but it felt like the right place to go, the exact destination didn't matter much to me.

I placed my elbows on my knees and rested my face in my hands. Right in front of me was a large window looking out into outer space. I could see the lights of approaching space shuttles, but mostly I could see the reflections of myself and my surroundings: the grey carpet, the white metal walls, the stainless steel seats, a couple of flight attendants and only a handful of fellow travelers walking by. My eyes settled on my own slumped form.

I didn't know what Hendrik saw in me, what he found attractive and I couldn't blame Duo for being more content with Hilde as his companion than me. My hair was messy and utterly uncontrollable, with haphazard bangs partly obscuring thick, angular eyebrows. My eyes were large and slanted but deadened. I was lithe but perhaps a little too slim-built, with a slender, long neck and legs that were proportionately too long for my body, making me look younger and weaker than I liked to be, like a new born foal.

Unlike during my last wait for an outer space flight, time crawled by. I repeatedly glanced at the reflection of the clock in the window, mentally reversing the image, and being disappointed by the progression of time. To occupy myself I shuffled over to the vending machine to my left and got out a chocolate and caramel candy bar. The overpriced snack was the last thing I could afford with what remained of Hendrik's drug money. Once I would arrive in San Francisco I should probably get another job at a diner, like what I had done in Amsterdam. I didn't know for what else I qualified, being unsociable, inexperienced and technically non-existent.

I sat back down and slowly ate the treat.

My entire body froze when a new figure appeared in the dark window.

Duo came to a sudden stop in the middle of the pathway, a few feet behind me. He threw his gaze up at the sign that read "GATE SEVEN", which was apparently what he had been looking for. He looked around and quickly spotted me and our eyes met in the reflection of the window.

I slowly got up and turned to face him, unsure of what he was doing there.

"Heero," He breathed a sigh of relief. In two large strides with his heavy work-boots he was right in front of me and without hesitation he wrapped his strong arms around my shoulders and pulled me into a tight embrace.

I awkwardly returned the hug.

"I'm so glad I caught up with you in time." He buried his face in the crook of my neck and inhaled deeply, like he was enjoying the very scent of my skin. "I figured you'd be here and luckily the woman at the counter remembered you and which flight you were taking."

"You came looking for me?" Obviously he did, but it seemed so unlikely and baffling to me that I had to question it.

"Of course."

"But Hilde? You said you were with Hilde."

He pulled away a little so he could look me in the eyes. "I was."

"You were?" I verified dumbly, not understanding what this all meant.

"You really should have let me finish and let me open the gate," He said with an exasperated chuckle. He cupped my face gently. "All this time I have never stopped thinking about you. My feelings for Hilde were misguided. I loved her dearly, but as a friend, I realized. I tried to make more of it, I tried to replace you with her, but it was never right, it was never fulfilling. I looked for you. I looked for you everywhere! I spent weeks in Europe hoping to find you. When I couldn't find you I took that as you not wanting to be found, so I stayed with Hilde because I couldn't bear to end my relationship with her and miss her friendship, while I was dealing with the realization that I would never see you again; that I let you slip through my fingers," He spoke quickly, impassioned. "I had resigned to the fact that I would never see you again, because I thought you never wanted to see me again, but then there you were… just on the other side of the gate… saying the things I had always dreamt to hear you say. I never felt happier."

I could empathize, seeing as he was currently returning the favor.

"I wasn't going to be a fool again. I wasn't going to let you slip away again. I left Hilde," his tone saddened briefly, but he was determined, "She was very upset, although she wasn't surprised. She knew ever since I went down to Earth to try to find you that you were more special to me than a friend. I hate doing this to her, but I can no longer neglect my feelings for you." He paused before solemnly stating: "I love you."

I gasped when he suddenly took me into his arms and held me like he had no intention of ever letting me go. And I was perfectly fine with that.

In the interest of full disclosure, I started: "I did… I did some things I'm not proud of, these last two years."

Duo hugged me tighter still. "It's okay. It's fine."

"No, really," I insisted. "You might feel differently about me when you find out. I… I did some messed up things. I'm still a messed up person."

He pulled back enough to look at my face, but kept his arms around my waist. "So am I. We'll get cleaned up together," He assured me and kissed me on my lips. "I know we still have rough times ahead of us. We both have things we need to deal with. But I know it's all going to be alright. I have always loved you. I will always love you."

I sighed and melted against him, deciding to wait with the story of these past, seedy years. "Thank you for loving me."

He chuckled. "No problem."

After thoroughly enjoying his embrace for a long time I moved my head to look up at him and hoped he would lean down to kiss me.

He did. He captured my lips with a sigh and his hands grasped at the clothing on my back, desperately keeping me close. First he sensually moved his lips against mine in a delicate, open-mouthed kiss but then I felt the tentative tip of his tongue. He held back, unsure if he should deepen the kiss, unsure if I was ready, but from the curious, light touch of his tongue it was undisguised that he wanted to. With me wanting it as much as he did, I took the initiative of touching my tongue to his and then inviting him into my mouth. He fervently accepted the invitation and kissed me deeply, moaning into my mouth as he did.

When our lips parted so we could both take a much needed deep breath he grinned down at me and remarked with a whisper: "You taste like caramel."

"Oh." I think I might have blushed. I sheepishly brought up the half-eaten candy-bar in its colorful wrapper that I had still been holding in my hand. I presented it to him. "Do you want some?"

"Yes, I do." Without hesitation he leaned back down and reclaimed my lips in another soul-searing kiss, preferring the way the candy-bar tasted in my mouth.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, the candy wrapper crackling in my fist. It was my favorite treat ever since.

An overhead voice announced that passenger for the flight to San Francisco should start boarding.

I detached myself from him and asked him with a frown: "So what now? Where do we go from here?"

Duo shrugged and beamed a smile at me that instantly empowered me and put me at ease. "I guess we're going to San Francisco," He said lightheartedly, "We both have tickets and they are already loading my suitcase with all my belongings into the shuttle."

"You don't want to stay here?"

"No, I have no reason to stay here."

"But isn't this your home?"

He leaned down to plant a kiss on the corner of my mouth, completely casual, like we had been exchanging loving pecks all our lives – it felt right. "Home is where-ever you are. Although," He looked around distastefully, "I'm not a big fan of the grey carpeting." He laughed at his own joke and took a step back towards the gate. He reached his hand out to me. "Come on."

I took his hand and let him lead to the me to the gate where the flight attendant checked our boarding passes and kept smiling at us with a deep red blush on her cheeks as she had obviously witnessed the entire scene.

Duo never let go of my hand as we approached the entrance to the shuttle or even as we sat down in our seats.

"Nervous?" He asked as the shuttle started break away from the dock, after half an hour of nothing but comfortable silence between us. Duo knew I didn't like flying when it wasn't me or him at the controls. But his question meant so much more, I could see it in his eyes.

"No," I replied and I meant it.

Neither of us knew where life would take us. We had no job, no money, no place to live, no guarantee that we could make our relationship work after all we've been through; before, during and after the wars. But I already felt a little bit more complete with us joined at the hand and even though I had no idea where we were going, where we would end up, I had the feeling that we were headed in the right direction.

* * *

**AC 206**

I looked up and squinted my eyes when the first beam of sunlight broke through the ash grey clouds and steadily the rain started to let up, the clouds became a nonthreatening light grey and started to roll away, exposing a blue sky that was already starting to turn pink and orange at the horizon as the sun had started its descent.

It would all come to an end too soon, I thought.

"Hey," Duo softly spoke up.

I turned my head to watch him approach me.

"You've been out here for an hour," He stated with evident concern. "I wasn't sure if I should follow you outside, if you wanted me to. But I started to get worried…" He rubbed his neck sheepishly.

"I was just watching the weather change," I replied calmly.

"Yeah," Duo turned his gaze up to the sky. He didn't seem thrilled.

"We should probably get some towels and start drying off the inside of the car," I suggested, unclear on whether or not I actually wanted to make such haste to get on the road again. My feelings had become more confusing than ever.

"Do you want to?" Duo rightly questioned, "We could stay here for one more night. We might as well, we paid for the room."

I had dreaded that question. I dreaded questions to which I didn't know the answer. All I could do was shrug ambiguously.

Duo didn't know what to do with that, he looked at me for a long time, while I purposefully looked away, pretending not to notice his stare, then finally he turned his gaze up to the sky again and he watched the orange and pink hues spread across the entire canvas as the sun dipped ever lower. "We're only like two day's drive away from Washington," He started anew with detached tone. "If we leave in the early mornings and drive all day we'll reach the city late at night the day after tomorrow. We'll still be two days early."

From Duo's argument it was apparent that he too was not eager to reach our destination, even though there was something good waiting for him there too.

"Wait right here, I'm going to ask something at the front desk."

Just like that Duo left my side and with long paces he stepped into the reception room of the roadside motel. Figuring he would try to get back some of the money we had paid for one more day and night, I started towards the car. I ripped the passenger side door open by the rusty handle and bent forward to look inside. The seats were soaked and beads of water made the dashboard look like it had a horrible skin disease. The canvas roof was still wet, both inside and out and occasionally another drop would form and eventually fall down to the interior.

Suddenly Duo appeared behind me with a stack of folded up towels in his arms, some were our own that we had brought along, some he had borrowed from the motel. He handed me a few and together we started patting the inside of the car dry.

"So we're hitting the road?" I concluded as we busied ourselves preparing the car.

"Yes, but only for a little bit."

I paused with a damp towel in my hand. "What do you mean?"

"I asked the receptionist for a nice hotel nearby and she said there is a beautiful little bed-and-breakfast just a few miles up the road. I called and reserved a room for us for the night."

"But we have a room for the night," I pointed back to the motel.

"We are not going to spend one more night in that old, dusty room. I crave better sheets."

I would have argued, but the prospect of spending another night in that motel that was no intricately interwoven with another sad memory, didn't appeal to me, so I continued drying off the seats.

We did the best we could and accepted the remaining dampness. We packed up our belongings and Duo got directions from the receptionist to this bed-and-breakfast she had recommended him. She probably thought us mad for paying for a room and then leaving, but she was kind and helpful.

A little less than an hour later, watching the sun set in the rear view mirror, Duo turned the car off the highway and took us to the bed-and-breakfast that lay a little off course. The receptionist of the motel couldn't have oversold the location. It was a beautiful white plaster mansion amidst the open countryside. Flowered vines grew up the outer walls and encircled stained glass windows like a romantic, whimsical frame. The yard was landscaped to perfection, absolutely immaculate and a cobble stone path led up to the small terrace at the front of the house where two other couples, significantly older than us, were enjoying dainty cups of cappuccino.

We walked up the path and were greeted halfway by an elegant looking woman who appeared through the double doors. Following a soft-spoken greeting she guided us upstairs to one of four rooms available in the bed-and-breakfast.

The pastel wallpaper and flower-pattern sheets weren't exactly my taste but regardless of it – of anything really – I appreciated the old-fashioned romanticism of the setting.

The woman reminded us that only two of the other rooms were in use, so she had another room available, we wouldn't have to share a room. When Duo made clear we wanted to share a room her cheeks turned red and she fumbled with a genuine apology before excusing herself, remembering last minute to remind us that we had to fill in a form to indicate what we would want for breakfast and at what time.

"I never get tired of making people uncomfortable like that," Duo remarked, bemused.

"Yes, it is all fun and games until a hick tries to bash your head in with a bat," I replied dryly.

"He was not out to kill us!" Duo insisted with a laugh, recognizing the incident I was referring to.

"Who plays baseball right in the middle of the camping ground, in between the tents?"

Duo shook his head. "I can't believe you are still going on about that. He missed, didn't he? He kept us up the rest of the night apologizing for God's sake."

"He narrowly missed," I reminded him, "And only because I ducked my head just in time. And who goes camping for their honeymoon anyway?" I teased.

Duo let out a hearty laugh. "We did not "go camping" for our honeymoon! We traveled all through Europe, we slept in amazing, luxurious hotels! It was just one night that we camped out in that national park – the park you insisted on seeing, by the way. The plan was to stay in Barcelona one more day but you wanted to drive up to the park and we ended up having to spend the night there. Why do you always say we went camping for our honeymoon. Man, when you said that to Quatre I thought the miniature blonde was going to bitch slap me."

I smirked. "I never get tired of making you get all worked up like that," Mirroring what he said earlier.

Duo shook his head. "Evil!"

I laughed. I didn't know if it was the setting, the impending doom that made it necessary to enjoy the laughter while it lasts, or if it was just really funny, but I felt light for a moment and free to laugh.

Duo sighed, ever torn between happiness and sadness – happy in the moment, sad knowing that it is only fleeting. "It seems so long ago…" He mused and he walked over to the bed, testing the softness of the sheets absentmindedly.

"What?"

"Our honeymoon."

I frowned. "It was a long time ago."

Duo turned to me with a smile. "True. But doesn't it feel longer ago still, now that things are so different?"

I mulled over his question as he continued wistfully:

"We were so happy then. That happiness seems so far away now." His features hardened with determination. "But I have hope. I still have hope that we can get back to that. Think of all we have suffered before we found that peace, that contentment. There had been great darkness in our lives but when we finally came together, the way we were always meant to be, our light reached into the darkest shadows, until there were no more shadows. How are these shadows different? How are they darker?"

I took a deep breath to steady my emotions, but I could already feel my eyes welling up. "It was not you who hurt me, before."

Duo stilled.

"What makes it different is that I had you, you were stitches to an open wound, a crutch to a limping gait. It was thanks to you that I healed, you took all the pain away. I thought that you would never cause me harm. But you have and I don't know yet where that leaves me. Bleeding and crippled most likely." I sighed. "I have accepted my part in this, my part of the blame. But it still hurts. Besides, nothing I have experienced hurt as much as losing-" I stopped myself short of saying his name, remembering what pain that could cause me, even after all this time.

Duo slowly sagged down onto the edge of the bed, his gaze far away.

Sometimes, when I looked at him, I got the sinking feeling that his indiscretion hurt him as much as it did me. I slowly walked towards him and sat down close next to him on the bed, turning my upper body to face him. On his face I saw a reflection of my own anguish and concerns. I had not meant to punish him further with my words. I had to leave behind the last thread of resentment, that had been guiding me through a dark maze, I had it let it slip from my fingers and accept that I was in unknown territory and find a new way through this chaos. It was certainly more difficult, it was so much easier to resort to anger and blame, but I knew where that path would take me if I had continued to follow it and I realized that was no place I wanted to go, because that would surely be a place where I would end up without him and without hope.

Hope. Perhaps it would be good rekindle some, even if it might be in vain. And maybe that moment was perfect for it. One last deep breath before going under.

"I still remember the first time you made love to me…"

Duo tentatively looked up with a small smile at the happy memory that I brought up. "Yeah?" He asked teasingly.

"I think of it often." This was no lie. I considered it the moment where he cleansed me of the filth that Hendrik had stained me with and all the other filth of dried blood and gunpowder.

"It couldn't have been that good," He joked lightheartedly.

"It was," I assured him seriously.

"Surely it wasn't the best I ever accomplished with you. That would be disheartening."

A breathy chuckle escaped my lips at his jest. "We got to know each other's bodies better, so things definitely improved. But I will always remember that first time most dearly."

"I'm a little hazy, perhaps you can refresh my memory?" He toyed.

"You were gentle," I whispered sensually, enjoying our little game as a welcome break.

"Aren't I always?"

I let out a hearty laugh and Duo struggled to keep his face straight as we both remembered many times when lust and passion overcame the both of us and he could be hurried and rough, his thrusts powerful and deep, leaving me sore but content. Not to mention the select number of times the top position had been offered to me and he clawed at my back and pulled at my hair with feral desire, causing me to explain my reason for preferring the bottom position with the lasting joke that it hurt less. Of course that was not true, sex with Duo was never actually painful, not to be deserving of the word 'hurt', but I could never really tell him how much I liked him inside of me, or my reasons for it, rather trusting that he knew this implicitly.

"So, I was gentle…" He encouraged, his arm snaking around my waist.

"Yes…" I breathed huskily, indulging in vivid memories. "You stripped us both of our clothes. Your fingers grazed my skin as you pulled each piece of fabric off my body. You told me I was beautiful and kissed my chest following every button you popped."

His hand slipped across my thigh, squeezing the flesh and I felt his hot breath against my neck as he turned his head towards me. His lips were so close but he was purposefully not kissing me, choosing to tease me and drive me mad instead.

"Then what did I do?"

I groaned. My hand settled on his that lay strongly on my thigh. I longed for him to draw it up my leg. "Put your hand on my groin," I said.

Duo chuckled. "Nooo," He drawled out, "That is not what I did next."

My chest heaved with a sharp laugh. I had not been describing the memory but instead had begged him to move his hand in the present. When it was clear he would not oblige, I closed my eyes and continued: "You lay behind me on the bed, holding me against you, kissing my neck and whispering sweet things in my ear that I fail to remember. I was crying."

His lips finally kissed me, gently, soothingly, on the sharp corner of my jaw.

"You told me we could wait, as long as I needed. And I told you I could wait no longer for you to replace the memory of his hands with your own." I sighed as he continued to kiss my face lightly. "Then you lay between my thighs and you stretched me with your fingers, leisurely, taking your time, taking forever it seemed."

Duo smiled. "You were starting to get a bit impatient at that point," He whispered, his lips moving against the sensitive shell of my ear.

"You were always kind of a tease," I replied and I pulled at the hand on my thigh, trying to urge it to move up to where I desired it. I shuddered when his tongue darted out and licked my ear. "I had been scared of pain. It had always been painful with him, I didn't want it to be painful with you but I worried it was part of it. But when you finally pushed into me…" I moaned at the intensity of the memory. It made my body tingle all over.

"How did you feel then?" He asked.

"Complete."

He smiled at my answer.

I chuckled as the memory played out in my head like a video. "When you started moving, I had never expected it to feel so good. I was very loud."

"Yes, you were," He growled possessively. "I loved it. I'll never forget the sounds you made when I angled my hips and my cock brushed your prostate with every thrust."

"My only regret is that I came so swiftly. For all its intensity, it was so brief."

"Please, do not regret. You saved me the deep shame of not lasting long enough to bring you to completion. I was dangerously close before we even became one." His words were rushed as was his breath. His hands finally found my crotch and kneaded the bulge through the fabric before expertly slipping the button open and carefully pulling down the zipper.

I sighed with relief when there was only the thin cotton of my briefs left to separate me from him. I slowly eased back onto the bed, pulling him along with me.

"And besides," Duo continued with mischievous tone, "Only shortly after our first time was over, we made love for the second time. And the third."

I blushed. I had been so overwhelmed with pleasure that night that I had feared I might never get enough.

"You were insatiable."

"You didn't make any complaints then," I shot back, a little embarrassed.

"I'm not making any complaints now." He climbed on top of me, straddling my hips. Finally his lips found mine and he kissed me passionately. His hands did not idle, they had cupped my face gently as he captured my mouth with his, but quickly they trailed down, leaving a path of nerves set alight. They caressed my slender neck, feeling the wild pulse, before moving over my shoulders and then down my chest, pushing the jacket I was wearing open. His hands needily rubbed my torso through the fabric of my shirt, his touches coarse and unrefined, but oh so welcome. I sighed when they eventually slipped under the hem of my shirt, pushing the fabric up to my collarbone as his hands steadily caressed up my body.

Fighting through the delicious distraction I reached up and hooked the fingers of both my hands into the opening of his shirt between two buttons. I powerfully ripped the shirt open, buttons hitting my bare chest as I exposed his impatiently.

It didn't feel like we were in an unfamiliar bed-and-breakfast on our way to Washington D.C. to meet with Hilde and hers and Duo's child. It felt like we were in our home, in San Francisco, in a bed that comfortably smelled like us. Not only were we in a different place, we were in a different time as well, no trouble existed in our minds as we succumbed to pleasure.

It was such a rare and pleasant illusion. I reveled in it.

My fingers found the front of his pants and fumbled to get the button and zipper open. Though I could, I knew it would not be appreciated if I used the force necessary to rip the offending denim off his body.

Duo interrupted the kiss and climbed off me. Standing by the bed, between my spread legs, he gave me a sly look. He sensually slipped the ruined button-up shirt from his shoulders and then moved to undo his pants and push them down along with his underwear, baring his erection standing straight up in need. He gestured for me to sit up and made haste pulling off my jacket and shirt, before roughly pushing me back down onto the bed with a strong push of his hand against my sweaty chest.

I raised myself up on my elbows and watched silently as he hooked his thumbs into the belt loops of my tight jeans and dragged the garment down the length of my legs, the briefs being held in place by the bulge of my arousal.

He wasn't content until he had pulled my feet through the trunks and threw the jeans to the corner of the room. He urged me to scoot back further onto the bed so my legs were no longer dangling over the edge and he could properly kneel between them.

A big, warm hand rubbed me through my briefs and with a sigh I settled back down on the bed.

"I love you so much," Duo whispered and he placed a reverent kiss on my stomach, just above the hem of my underwear, his chin grazing my arousal.

"Ah!" I clasped my hand over my mouth. Who knew how thin the walls were and I didn't want one of the other couples overhearing us. The shame would be unbearable.

When he finally peeled my briefs off my skin the relief was indescribable. One hand grasped my length and slowly stroked up and down a number of times before I felt him place another feather light kiss, this time on the sensitive head of my erection.

"Oh fuck," I breathed, my mouth free again as my fists automatically twisted into the pillowcase, just above my head.

"With your permission…" He responded mischievously.

"Oh, yes, you have it. Please."

He crawled up my body and kissed me deeply. I arched my back to press my chest tightly against his. No amount of closeness would ever be enough.

Then all of a sudden the warmth of his body disappeared and I moaned in dismay.

"I'm just going to check if there is some lotion in the bathroom that we can use," Duo explained and I watched his naked formed disappear.

To speed the process along as I was desperate for our joining and our mutual release, I used my fingers to quickly stretch myself, so that when he returned we could get right to it. Normally, when we had sex regularly, I didn't need to take such preparations every time, but since whatever Duo might be able to find was never going to be proper lubrication, it seemed a good idea to take precautions. Combined with last night, I didn't want to end up sore. The seats in the old convertible were not particularly comfortable to a sore bottom.

With one hand far between my legs and the other still fisting the crisp white pillow case I threw my head back at the experienced sensations and the anticipation of what was to come.

"Holy shit."

My eyes flew open and spotted Duo in the doorway to our small, private bathroom, barely being able to hold onto the bottle in his hand as he stared at me with lustful eyes. Embarrassment washed over me like a hot wave until I realized just how much he was enjoying the sight of me.

Once he regained his composure he joked with deep voice: "Don't start without me." He stalked towards the bed and sat down on it again. With shaking hands he opened the bottle coconut oil and with laughably poor aim he poured it onto his swollen member.

I retreated my fingers to make way for him.

He strongly grabbed my calves and placed my legs over his shoulder and he leaned forward until my knees were almost against my chest. I felt exposed, but not vulnerable.

I cried out when he pushed into me, a little louder than intended. I didn't doubt that my sharp cry had managed to penetrate the walls, but I was no longer in any state of mind to be concerned with our neighbors. Instantly I felt amazing; invincible, yet, paradoxically, also completely at his mercy. But I needn't worry. Duo was a very… merciful lover.

Duo's thrusting was slow. He visibly strained to keep his pace controlled, clearly determined to make this coupling last longer than the previous had. His mouth bestowed kisses on me, on my mouth, on my face, on my ears and on my neck.

Still, impassioned as we both were, it was always going to be over too soon, in spite of our efforts to make it last. Even Duo's languid movements steadily sent me spiraling towards climax. It was probably exactly his lovingness and gentleness, evident in the sensuous rhythm, that brought me all the more close to completion.

"I love you," He whispered, his voice barely more than a shaky exhale.

"I love you too," I replied and I raised my head off the pillow to kiss his cheek where I saw tear fall. "Forever," I added and I meant it, no matter what.

He buried his face in the crook of my neck, I think embarrassed to let me see any more of his tears, but I felt them on my naked skin.

As we reached our climax, we kissed tenderly and rather than throaty, animalistic moans, soft sighs and the whispers of each other's names escaped our lips.

He rolled off me and we lay stretched out on the bed next to each other, panting; thinking.

"That was… Amazing," He concluded.

The mattress shifted as he turned to lay on his side, facing me, his head propped up on his hand. "Wonderful. Beautiful. Mind-blowing… Fabulous."

I wanted to snort sarcastically, but amused by his stereotypical lisp on the last word the sound was overpowered by an abrupt chuckle. "It was okay," I concurred matter-of-factly as a joke. It was all the things he said it was and more. Escapism at its best.

"So how does it compare to the first time?"

"Well, it's probably equally monumental." I bit my lip when I realized I had said that out loud.

I wasn't looking at him, but from the corner of my eyes I could tell his brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

I tore my eyes away from the ceiling to meet his gaze. "Because it might be the last time."

He rolled onto his back. He knew I spoke the trust, I knew he was aware of it all along, but clearly it was too much of a dose of reality to have it be spoken out loud. And I realized I had been wrong for ruining the moment.

With a deep sigh he pushed himself upright. I watched the muscles of his back move under his skin and my gaze trailed down the disheveled braid that fell along his spine. My love for him was overpowering. It was frightening at times.

"It seems like you've already given up."

It was a statement. I wasn't sure if I agreed with it. I resented it, but at the same time I recognized there was a strong base of truth to it. I had a vivid idea in my head of what it was going to be like once we arrived at Washington D.C. and once the child – unplanned but not unwanted – would be born. I couldn't imagine a version of that bleak future where I wouldn't be torn apart by my own emotions. I hadn't decided yet what I would do, I didn't plan to give up, yet to a part of me, the part that dares not to cherish hope, it was inevitable that it would all end. Of course there was also the part of me that encouraged me not to lose hope, that encouraged me to believe in the good. That part of me I owed to Duo. He gave me that. It was both a blessing and a curse.

I sat up as well. "I haven't given up," I argued gently.

"It seems like I have already lost you. You treat this like this is the end. I know you need to prepare yourself for that, to protect yourself the best you can, but this isn't right." He finally looked back at me over his slouched shoulder. "You don't know what is going to happen, how we are going to feel and whether or not we can make it work. You don't know that yet."

A little irritated that he failed to apply this judgment to himself, I reminded him: "And neither do you. You are so certain that you will continue to love me and that you will always work to keep me in your life, that you will always need my presence… But you don't know what you are going to feel when you are with Hilde in the delivery room and you look upon your child in her arms or when she hands him or her to you." My gaze hardened. "I think you stubbornly underestimate what that will do to you. You are in denial about how complicated and difficult this is going to be, for everyone involved. Hilde is not going to want me to be part of this little family. Are you really going upset the mother of your child, or even risk being pushed away yourself – not allowed to see your own baby -, just to keep me in the loop?"

"I will always 'keep you in the loop'," He said, determined. "You are part of this family," He stressed.

"Well maybe I don't want to be!" I was startled by the raw emotions evident in my own voice.

Duo looked at me with big, questioning eyes.

I felt the corners of my mouth pull down, but I fought to keep the depth of my emotions from showing. "I did want make a family with you. But this is not the kind of family I had in mind. To even just hear you talk to Hilde on the phone makes me jealous and fearful, but she's not even what I'm opposed to most." I took a deep breath and assured him: "I do not blame you for wanting this child and for loving this child and for making this child your priority. You are a good man and you will make an excellent father. But to be part of this family, that you and Hilde are creating, would mean to be "part-dad" to this child and right now I cannot even stand the thought. What if it's a boy? That would make him my son – more or less," I said softly with a shrug, "and I had very different ideas of what my son would be. He would be ours. And ours alone. He would be the product of our love. Not the result of the most horrible time in our lives. He would bond us. Not threaten to break us apart. And-" I choked back a sob and bit my lower lip to keep it from quivering, "He would be living with us, in our home in San Francisco. And you would be pushing him back and forth on the swing set that you had bought for Leander. And I would teach him to hack into the on-board computer of the SUV and change the voice over for the navigation to that one guy with the French accent that you hate." I laughed at myself. I had had a lot of those silly, oddly specific thoughts when Nicky was pregnant with Leander.

"We could still have that…" He said softly, but he was mostly lost in memories of his own.

"No. Because I can't go down that road again. I'm too afraid to. And I don't feel like I can go down this road and have this child be part mine."

He shifted so he sat facing me. With an intense expression he begged me: "Then tell me what you need to make this work; to give this a chance at working. If you don't want to be part of it, then you don't have to be. I'll split my time between you and the child. He's probably going to be with Hilde most of the time anyway. I mean, we haven't really discussed it, but I think so."

I smiled at his innocent, hopeful blabbering. I had a strong feeling Hilde wanted him to be more involved than Duo expected, if her insisting he'd be present for the birth was any indication. And with the way things ended between her and Duo, with him leaving her suddenly for me, I could well imagine that she still loved him the way he once thought he loved her. Duo was a difficult guy to get over, I could sympathize. I didn't think her above using this child to manipulate Duo to spend more time with her and distance him from me. Not because I thought badly of Hilde, but because I was acutely aware of the morally questionable things I would be willing to do to keep Duo with me. It had crossed my mind many times to rush the process of trying to have another child with him through surrogacy – in spite of the fact that I was honestly deathly afraid of risking that heartache again – just to have something that would bind him to me, the way he was bound to Hilde. A horrible, vindictive, fear-based, utterly wrong reason to bring a child into the world, but it had been a persistent thought the first few months of Hilde's pregnancy. Like we were vying for Duo's love and attention and that was the only way to get even with her.

Naturally it had also crossed my mind that his love and attention might exactly be the reason why she got pregnant even though she had assured Duo she was on birth control. But to let my thoughts stray that way would only be poisonous, so I steered clear of that minefield and accepted it as an accident that I could only be jealous of.

I cupped his face with my hands, effectively quieting him – as he had still been blabbering – and making him look at me. "I am sorry I brought up this whole discussion. Can we please stop this?" I begged him. "Can we please go back to just enjoying this night?" I smiled at him. "Because I was really enjoying it." I pulled him with me as I eased back onto the mattress. He needed little persuasion. He seemed dazed. A little out of it.

He settled next to me with a sigh, wrapping his arms tightly around me, like he was afraid I was going to slip away in the night.

I pulled the end of his braid into my reach and absent-mindedly toyed with it as I felt him slowly succumb to sleep.

The decision and the hardship that lay ahead of me was clarified – but not made any easier –by a polarized realization.

It would break my heart to stay with him.

It would break my heart to leave him.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Loneliest Road**

**Chapter 9**

_\- When you are lost, retrace your steps and figure out where you took the wrong turn. The challenge is then to take the right turn. -_

* * *

**AC 206**

Duo was asleep beside me. His dreams were troubled, I could tell. His eyes shifted behind his eyelids. Sometimes, the lashes fluttered. Occasionally a frown would appear and his mouth would become a tight-pressed line of discontent. I kept a vigilant eye. If it were to become apparent he was suffering from a particularly bad nightmare, I would wake him to spare him. Until then, I decided he needed his rest. I myself was too restless to sleep, the night felt too much like the quiet before the storm. Even when you have boarded up the windows, secured all the valuables and taken shelter in the basement, you still get nervous when the storm is about the hit and you wonder what else you could have done to ensure you and everything you loved, would be able to weather it.

It seemed especially wry to me that everything has appeared to be so perfect – and perfectly safe – before, until all of a sudden… it wasn't anymore. One moment you are enjoying a life you never even dared to dream of, the next moment the clouds roll over, you're battening down the hatches and hiding in the basement and while you forget what the warmth of the sun on your skin felt like, you wish someone could wake you from the nightmare to spare you.

I could only bitterly wish that our troubles were confined to realm of bad dreams.

We got more than we ever dreamed of; we got more than our best dreams; we got more than our worst dreams.

In the absence of sleep I focused my mind on the journey that took us to the switching point.

* * *

When we landed in San Francisco in AC 198 there was an appropriate measure of apprehension evident on both our faces. We had both abandoned the places we had called home without any plan of how to start anew. Leaving behind our pasts made our future no more clear. Immediately we were confronted with the issue that I didn't know what I wanted, and that Duo was reluctant to take the lead, afraid of forcing me into something, it left us very indecisive.

Duo had some money that he had saved up, but in the interest of being frugal, seeing as we had no idea how long his savings might have to last us while we looked for employment, he rented us a small studio apartment in the basement of a run-down complex. In the entire apartment we had only a single window, three feet wide, one foot tall, right up against the ceiling. All day we saw feet walk by.

The situation plummeted me into the experience of a new emotion: guilt. I felt guilty for leading Duo away from his comfortable lifestyle up on L2; with job security and a decent view. For a long time I was convinced he would have been better off if I had never shown up, even when he assured me that life with Hilde had never made him happy; that he had never stopped missing me; that the day I showed up and confessed my love to him was the best day of his life.

I also felt incredibly guilty about how things had transpired for Hilde. It gnawed at me and I recognized it was eating at Duo as well. He may never have been happy with her, but she had been happy with him. Duo told me their relationship – although technically still defined as romantic as they went out on dates and shared a bed – had regressed back into purely platonic territory, lacking all physical intimacy, but Hilde had believed this to be nothing but a phase, something they could work through. She recognized that he had been distancing himself from her, but she had not been willing to let go and she rejected his every attempt to explain to her that things weren't right between them anymore. He stayed with her, as long as he did, only because he foresaw how heartbroken she would be when the relationship would inevitably come to an end. He had tried to postpone that end, because he didn't want to hurt his friend and he didn't want to lose his friend. But that end had come. Because of me. And in the aftermath of it Hilde was heartbroken and so was Duo, for inflicting that on her.

With the weight of that – and everything else – on our shoulders, a romantic relationship between the two of us didn't come naturally, nor effortlessly, in spite of the amazing kiss at the L2 spaceport. We shared a bed in that cramped apartment and sometimes Duo would kiss me on the cheek, on the head, or drape his arm around my shoulders but we weren't physical with each other beyond that. This was life, not a fairytale. We didn't have our happy ending yet, if we were ever even going to. We weren't expecting a fairytale, we accepted the fact that we were flawed as individuals and certainly as a couple for a long time to come as well. Wordlessly we had come to the conclusion that that was okay. We had to shift gears, match our speeds and work our way into the same lane. If we rushed it, accidents were bound to happen.

So we did things one step at a time and the first step to making a life together, was to make a living.

Duo got a job as a mechanic at a small, local garage. He was overjoyed with the position. For years he had been tasked with destruction, first as a Gundam Pilot and then at the scrapyard. He was thrilled to be a fixer, to restore things to their former glory – or a close to it as possible. He described it as therapeutic, which was, I thought in hindsight, his way of trying to convince me to apply for a similar job. But for some reason the idea did not appeal to me in the least. Honestly everything felt like too much of a burden - too much of a responsibility – to me. Still, I was determined to make some sort of contribution to the household so I resorted to being a waiter once more. It felt so easy and so reassuringly mundane and unimportant. I wasn't sure what Duo thought of it, but regardless he was supportive, without being meddlesome, even when our hours started to conflict and he worked mostly during the day and I got stuck doing the evening shifts. The diner was close to the garage, so he had his lunch and dinner – on the way back home – at the diner. We never talked much when he sat in the booth. In fact, I didn't think I conversed with him significantly more than I did with the other patrons – very little – but his presence was an unspoken comfort for the both of us.

Slowly the quietly sharing of space at home and at the diner, started to evolve. More and more we became a couple. It started with him kissing me goodbye as he left the diner after his meal and headed back to work or home. Soon we were engaged in deep, passionate kissing in the doorway where he welcomed me each night when I returned home. And every movie night ended with us dry-humping on the sofa bed.

Once the physicality of our relationship took off, I realized very quickly that I wanted to have sex with him. Everything felt so right. But it was up to me to take the initiative and I didn't know how. I was embarrassed to ask him for it, afraid of what he might think. I had told him of my relationship with Hendrik by then and I was worried he would judge me for not needing more time.

My worries were unfounded. When it finally happened, it was amazing. Duo was not judgmental, he said he felt blessed that I trusted him and he assured me he would have patiently waited as long as I might have needed him to, but also that he was thrilled the wait was over. I was overwhelmed by the intimacy. It didn't resemble my experiences with Hendrik in the least. When Duo was within me, he was truly within me, in a way that transcended the physical. It was the start of something that changed me.

Waves crashed onto a shore riddled with wreckage and pulled the debris back into the water, lapping me clean of all dirt and jagged edges of wrangled metal, leaving the shore clean and absolved from its past.

Like the movement of an ocean, our life had a predictable, comfortably monotonous rhythm to it that suited us both. We were very focused on each other, in a quiet, understated way. Sometimes, when I came home from work, we wouldn't say anything all night, not even "hello". I would join him on the couch and later we would wordlessly agree that it was time to go to bed. We'd pull the sofa open, lay down in bed, turn off the lights and start making love. It was a healing time for me. I wouldn't have known what to say, or how to act normally, or how to slip into a regular life as well as a regular relationship. I was given time. It was like not putting weight on an injured limb for a period of time, allowing it rest, allowing it to strengthen. And Duo was always there, to support me, in every way I communicated I needed him to and in every way he deemed he could and should.

All the dark and the ugly was washed out of me with every refreshing surge of the ocean that was Duo. What replaced the shadows was a light lit for him. My love for him, shining. And across the waters I could see the beacon of his love for me, like a lighthouse reassuring me that he would always be there for me.

I loved him fully and unashamedly, even when it was, at times, jarring for my colleagues or patrons at the diner to observe. Not because they were principally against our relationship but because it was so unexpected for them to see me behave like that around him, when, at any other time, I was mostly as indifferent and impersonal as I had ever been.

Well, maybe not exactly, but I certainly melted whenever Duo came in for lunch and dinner.

One day Duo texted me that he would not be coming to the diner for lunch, one of the rookies had messed up the reassembly of the engine block of a car that they had promised to be done with midafternoon. To avoid upsetting an already particularly difficult client, Duo had to work through lunch.

That day someone else caught my attention at noon.

A new customer - a man in his late twenties, dressed in a disheveled business suit – came in and took a seat at the very end bar, in my section. He appeared distraught and distracted but I paid him no particular heed. I put a coffee cup in front of him and held the coffee jug over it as an unspoken question.

"Yeah. Sure. Thanks." He pulled his laptop out of his bag and when he opened it he made a face and looked around himself, like he was embarrassed. But from where he was sitting, no one could see his screen.

I poured him his coffee and nodded at the menu card.

"No thanks. I've… lost my appetite."

I shrugged and walked off. As I was cleaning coffee cups and observing the few customers that had distributed themselves throughout the diner for lunch, a colleague approached me.

"What's up with Flinchy in the corner?"

"Flinchy?"

He nodded at the man at the end of the bar, who was sweating, his fingers beating down on the keyboard, apparently without effect and he looked around suspiciously at every sound.

"If he's tripping you gotta ask him to leave."

"Tripping?"

He laughed at me and then rounded the bar to service customers in his section.

With my curiosity piqued I headed back to the man in the business suit. I idled for a little while, straightening things in the cabinet under the bar, keeping a watchful eye.

"Nononononononononononononono…" The man kept repeating. He gave up on working the keyboard and buried his fingers in his hair.

"Sir, if you are "tripping" I apparently have to ask you to leave," I stated, looking at him calmly.

"Tripping? I'm not on drugs!" He retorted defensively and turned red at the attention he was drawing to himself.

"I didn't say that." Wait. Did I?

He frowned at me. "Look, I'm sorry I'm a little anxious over here, but I am about to lose my job. My laptop is just… freaking out!"

"As of yet computers are incapable of emotion."

His frown deepened. He looked at me like I was crazy, while he was the one sweating and mumbling and talking about his laptop like it was a sentient being. "Look, I don't need a refill or anything, so unless you are some kind of computer genius, I don't need you hovering right now." He made a gesture for me to leave him alone.

"But I am some kind of computer genius," I remarked matter-of-factly.

He gave me a disdainful look, his eyes trailing down my neck to my purple bowtie and striped button-up shirt, an admittedly unsightly uniform. "Really?"

"Yes."

He stared at me for a while, then cast his hopeless gaze down at the screen at his laptop. "Well… I guess I might as well let you have a go at it. It can't possibly turn out worse than it is." He started turning the laptop to face me, but paused. "Just, uh… It's not really family-friendly material, so you might want to keep it turned away from the customers."

I looked down at the laptop as it was presented to me and was momentarily taken aback at the flashing images of distasteful pornography. Momentarily a memory flooded me of pictures featuring myself in compromising positions. I shook my head and focused on the task at hand. The machine appeared to be opening one pornographic site after another and downloading the man's personal and billing information onto every one of them, signing him up, at varying costs.

At my pause the man scrambled to explain: "I'm not some sort of horrible perv. I have an important presentation this afternoon, I was stressed. I opened this email from an unknown sender with a… uh… a suggestive subject, but the email said that I had registered for some hardcore porn site and that I had to confirm my billing information or cancel if I wanted to cancel the registration and get my money back. Then all these sites started opening and my information was being copied automatically. I- I can't stop it! My presentation is on there, as well as other really important information, but the thing's so busy opening sites that no other program is functioning. My office is just around the corner, I figured I head down here before someone would catch a glimpse of my screen."

"Hn." I positioned my fingers over the keyboard and observed the activity a moment longer, strategizing my defense against the cyber attack.

"You really think you can help?"

"It's a simple enough problem." Recovering a grace and speed that I worried I might have forgotten, my fingers started working.

"Simple?"

"It's an unprofessional hack. Just some above-average computer-savvy kid that got bored."

"How can you tell?"

"The programming is inelegant. And a seasoned hacker would have tried to steal your money for himself. Obviously the point of this is merely to embarrasses you by having you sign up for all these sites. The registration fee is a mere by-product of someone having a laugh at you."

"Oh."

"I've stopped the attack."

He raised his eyebrows.

"I'll go back now and cancel your registrations and subscriptions to sex-toy folders."

"You're going to go back to each site? The damn thing has been jumping from site to site for like half an hour, it must have visited hundreds."

"I'm writing a program that will do the work for me. It will erase your information from all those sites."

"You can write a program like that in a matter of minutes?"

"Yes." This program was especially easy because I've used a version of it various times in the past, most recently to erase every image of myself that Hendrik uploaded onto the world wide web.

"That's incredible." With the stress visibly leaving his body, he joked lightheartedly: "You must have been one of those bored kids."

I briefly looked up at him. A bemused smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth. "No, I wasn't bored. I had plenty to do. I'm not merely "above-average computer-savvy" either."

He smiled. "Right, you're "some kind of computer genius"."

"The program is running now. It'll be finished in a matter of minutes. Don't worry, it's very thorough." I turned the computer back to him. It was functioning normally again. My program was running quietly in the background.

He looked perplexed. "I'm speechless. This is amazing."

"You are speaking, so, by definition, you are not speechless," I pointed out.

He laughed, probably just giddy with relief. "I don't know how to thank you."

"You don't have to."

"I think I should. I'll find a way. You just saved my job – my whole department actually, and probably my relationship as well. I'll find a way to properly to thank you, but for now-" He extended out his hand and I took it. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

I didn't see him again for three weeks, during which time I completely forgot about him. Duo distracted me, tainted my memory. He continued to introduce me to the most amazing sex, laughter that made my stomach ache and all kinds of intimacy.

When the twenty-something business man returned, he made a point to formally introduce himself and reminded me that he owed me a debt, which he intended to repay by offering me a job. His company was expanding its computer programming department and he had arranged an interview for me.

I was reluctant to accept his offer. My life had been so easy, so comfortable. I was afraid of complicating things. I was afraid of what would happen if I took a step back towards my old self, even if it was only a minor step. The Heero Yuy that fought in the war was part programmer. I had been working hard to move beyond that person. I feared it would be like a reformed alcoholic taking a sip and finding himself incapable of leaving it at that one sip and instead was tempted to finish the glass.

Duo remained maddeningly neutral on the matter. He didn't want to sway me in any direction, he thought it was important for me to make the decision for myself. However, although his opinion remained unspoken, I had the sense that he preferred me to give it a shot. I thought he worried about what it meant that I was working far below my potential. I thought he worried that I wasn't really settling in. I wasn't making any commitments, I wasn't taking on any responsibilities. He might have seen it as the metaphorical packed duffel bag under the bed, the way we used to live when we were soldiers in the war. No place was ever home, we could never get attached to anything or anyone, we were always ready to leave.

I didn't want that life anymore and I certainly didn't want him to think that we were still living that life. And maybe, I figured, it would be better for me to apply my one non-violent skill in a constructive manner, the way Duo said being a mechanic was therapeutic for him.

Duo was still in contact with the other former Gundam Pilots, he had WuFei – who was working for the Preventers – create a brand new, legal, untraceable identity for me.

I stepped into the lobby of the corporate building and for the first time I could genuinely introduce myself as Heero Yuy, it had been made official. In spite of my underdeveloped social skills I was hired on the spot. It was an entry-level programming job, but I was bound to excel and climb the ladder. The work brought me stability as well as a sense of achievement. It was no more complicated for me than serving coffee at a diner, but I went home feeling accomplished. More importantly, I worked regular, nine-to-five hours, so Duo and I could spend more time together. We had so much sex that we got looks at the drugstore as we stocked up on condoms and lube. It raised a discussion that eventually had us risk being potentially confronted by our pasts when we decided to get tested for the full spectrum of sexually transmitted diseases. We had been pricked and prodded so many times by those crazy scientists, it wouldn't have surprised either of us if some of those needles had turned out to be tainted. But apparently we were valuable enough as soldiers to be worthy of clean needles. Only lube on the grocery list next time.

Late AC 199 Duo had been promoted as head mechanic and manager of the garage, I had started a freelance business that grew to be very successful, very quickly, as I became known as the best. Our life had outgrown the basement studio apartment but we stayed there longer than we needed to. It seemed watching foot traffic go by had grown on us. Eventually we moved into a bigger, proper apartment, in a better part of town. Our view: the ocean. Duo dreamed bigger still. He dreamed of a house. A particular house in fact. Our relocation meant that he had to commute through some fancy neighborhoods to get to the downtown garage. One of the houses had caught his attention. He said it looked exactly like the house he had always dreamed of, when he was just a little kid, sleeping on a mattress of cardboard under covers of newspaper, in the shadow of a dumpster. It was a house that we would never be able to afford, but we did start saving up to own an actual house eventually.

Quatre, Trowa and WuFei started visiting us regularly. We became friends. It was revealed to us that Quatre and Trowa had been in a committed relationship since the end of the war. WuFei grumbled about being 'the only damn straight one', but he seemed alright with it.

Duo had also become close friends with the elderly owner of the garage, still, it had been a major shock for him to discover, upon the death of his friend, that he had been left the garage. Apprehensively he took over, but the old man had made the right decision leaving the garage to Duo. It became more successful and got a reputation for being the best shop on the West Coast for restoring vintage cars – Duo's passion. He enjoyed starting out with nothing but a dented chassis and rusty wheel caps and turn it into something that brought people joy.

With my permission he reached out to Hilde in AC 200. He was looking for parts for an old colony car model and he remembered Hilde had a lot of connections on L2 through the scrapyard business she inherited. The parts were just an excuse though, to make things right. He had always been determined to make apologies and I had always agreed. What we did to Hilde weighed heavily on us both. I had stolen her boyfriend away from her. And Duo was the boyfriend who let himself be stolen, overnight.

Hilde didn't seem to have held on much of a grudge, she forgave Duo pretty quickly, although she was reluctant to accept me as part of his life. I kept my distance. I had learned a lot about human emotions, I recognized them in myself and in others and I understood that the last thing she would want would be for me to force myself on her, however good my intentions may be. In her story, I was the villain, I made a drama of what could have been a romantic comedy.

Duo worried that I would be jealous of his contact with Hilde, but I wasn't. I trusted him. Besides, they didn't see each other in person except for that one time when Duo flew out to L2 personally to collect those parts. Other than that they shared an occasional phone call, nothing more. Duo initiated most of them, Hilde appeared to be purposefully keeping a distance. I supposed because getting closer to Duo meant getting closer to me and Duo openly disclosed to me that she wasn't my biggest fan. I didn't mind that, I deserved that. If hating me helped her deal with her love being taken away from her – seeing me as a thief, rather than acknowledging that she and Duo had grown apart long before I showed up -, than I was happy to fulfill that role for her, it was the least I could do. Duo may have left her on his own accord, but I was the catalyst and I would always have to bear that guilt.

At the very least Duo seemed more at peace since he had had the chance to properly apologize to his former lover and friend. Absolved of his guilt he finally slept better, before he had, on occasion, been wrecked by feelings of unease and worry. He doubted himself, doubted that he had become the good man he had always promised himself he would be, once he wasn't forced to serve as a soldier anymore. Knowing that Hilde had landed on her feet, that he hadn't ruined his friend, brought him great relief.

"She seems happy," He told me after his visit to L2.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

With concern I noticed a waver in his voice. "Are you alright?"

"I'm just… relieved." He sat down on the couch next to me. "I didn't even notice the weight I had been carrying around until it was lifted off my shoulders, you know? It doesn't hit you that things are off until all of a sudden they aren't."

I put away the book I had been reading.

"I was really worried about her," He observed softly. "I worried that I had cost her her happiness. Forever. Not by leaving, but by pretending things were alright between us for as long as I did. That only made the break-up worse for her. But I didn't want to lose her, you know?"

I nodded gently.

"She was my best friend, she was all I had. I was afraid that if I told her that things weren't working between us as a couple, she wouldn't be able to be my friend anymore. That was incredibly shellfish. I put my own happiness ahead of her own."

"Well, by staying with her you did give her what she wanted. You made her happy for a long time."

"But it was all pretense. I tricked her. I tricked her because I was afraid to be alone."

"She would have been heart-broken either way. You protected your friendship as long as you could. You both benefited from that, for as long as it lasted. Sometimes keeping someone in the dark is a kindness."

He smiled sadly. He knew I was referring to the fact that I sometimes wished I had never told him about Hendrik, because as soon as I told him, it was a burden he too would have to bear, much like me. "I think it's better to be honest. No secrets. No pretenses." He leaned in close and pressed his forehead against mine. "No darkness."

In AC 201 I was called out to a suburban neighborhood close to our beachfront apartment for a "catastrophic computer meltdown fiasco". I drove out as the sun started to set, grumbling about the late call. I had texted Duo to let him know I wouldn't be home for dinner. I followed the directions and ended up in a quiet street, the houses dispersed, with large yards. I stopped looking at my GPS when I saw a specific tall, braided American standing in front one of the Mexican styled homes. I parked the car at the sidewalk and got out apprehensively.

"A catastrophic computer meltdown fiasco, huh?"

Duo shrugged sheepishly and produced his cellphone from the back pocket of his black jeans. "My phone froze just as I was about to beat my Tetris high score."

"I did warn you about loading old games onto your cell."

He smiled. "Yes. You did."

I looked over his shoulder at the house he was standing in front of. It matched descriptions I had heard many times in passing manner during dinners or sharing a cup of coffee on the terrace. A two-story, sand-colored house with terracotta roof tiles, at the center of the understated façade a front door of dark wood with detailed carvings. "I'm guessing I'm not here for a Tetris high score salvage."

"Not exactly. Though… if you find the time…" He extended out his hand.

I reached out for him and let him guide me to the front door. On our way I noticed the "SOLD!"-sign in the front yard. "Duo, why are we here? I know you wanted this house, but it's already sold. And we clearly can't afford it anyway."

"Let's just take a look around, see if you like it."

"It doesn't matter. Duo!" I called out as I watched him open the unlocked front door. I let him drag me into the hallway, to the living room, to the dining room, to the kitchen and even upstairs to the bedrooms and bathrooms. It was a beautiful house, it was no mystery to me why Duo was so taken with it, but I didn't understand the purpose of him dragging me there and showing it to me. We were, as we would say 'well off', but clearly we didn't have the funds to purchase a house like that. Moreover, it was already sold.

"Do you like it?" He asked excitedly upon completion of the tour.

"I love it, Duo. I'm sure we'll be able to find something just like it. Only… smaller and cheaper."

"If you love it, if you want it, it's ours."

I frowned. "But… Wait, the sold-sign…"

He grinned.

"Duo, what did you do?"

"Don't worry, I didn't take out any back-breaking loans. It was a gift."

I sighed, putting the pieces of the puzzle together. "You talked Quatre into buying us a house?"

"I didn't! He offered! As a gift to celebrate the occasion."

"What occasion?"

He flashed me another grin and reached for my hand again. "Follow me. I'll show you."

As I trailed after him, back downstairs, to the double doors to the back yard, I joked nervously: "Don't tell me you're pregnant."

Duo let out a hearty laugh, throwing a mirthful look over his shoulder.

His dry humor had, by then, successfully rubbed off on me.

He stopped and let go of my hands to pull both doors wide open.

I was shocked and confused by the sight before me and it took the gently pressure of Duo's hand low on my back to get me to step outside.

The stone courtyard embraced by the U-shaped house and the entire back yard of greenery beyond it, was decorated with white Christmas lights and strings of paper lanterns. A romantic table had been set in the middle of the lawn. Although Duo was intimate and loving in both word and deed he had never made such an overtly, frivolously romantic display and neither had I. I had never really understood the romanticism I observed through multi-media and frankly I always imagined I'd feel self-conscious and embarrassed if I were ever to be on the receiving end of such attention, but as awkward and confused as I was I felt unexpectedly… special. Clearly Duo had gone out of his way to arrange this, for whatever reason, and I easily imagined him painstakingly draping the Christmas lights in the branches of the trees and stringing the lanterns across the courtyard and it made me feel cherished; the way I felt when Duo would hold me close to him after making love, or when he would bring my feet into his lap and start rubbing them when we spent an evening on the couch, or when he would read me passages of whatever book he was reading that week while I lay curled up against him in bed.

"You think it's corny," He fretted. "You hate it."

I smiled at him and said: "I love you."

This seemed to reassure him that he hadn't made a fool of himself. He guided me further into the yard, so we were in the sea of lights. "I didn't know what else to do. I'm new at these big, romantic gestures," He explained sheepishly.

"It's beautiful."

He breathed a sigh of relief, he could tell I was being sincere. "I always dreamed of once living in a house like this," He started, "I didn't imagine the arches, or the third bathroom, or the tiles in the kitchen per se, but I dreamed of having an amazing house, somewhere I could feel grounded, at peace; somewhere I belonged. I was just a kid, just a kid on the streets, indulging in big dreams was the only way to keep the nightmares at bay," He smiled sadly. "I didn't realize that it takes a person, not a house, for someone to feel safe and at home. Everywhere I am with you is home. You give me that sense of belonging. You give me peace. You keep me grounded, because there is nowhere I'd rather be than by your side." He stood in front of me and took both my hands into his as he stared deeply, intimately, into my eyes. His smile was beaming. "I was more than happy in that basement studio and I am so happy in our current place. But when I first drove by this house I saw us standing in the doorway, welcoming friends into our home and I could," He shrugged, "I could hear the pitter patter of little feet. It made me realize that even though I have found my home with you, our love still deserves a proper house; something permanent, not a month-by-month lease, because we are permanent and I wanted you to know that. I wanted to show you my ever-lasting devotion in every way possible. I was looking to buy us something – uh – more modest, but when I told Quatre of my plans, he insisted on buying us this house. You know how he gets. I didn't think I deserved a gift like that, but I do think that you do. You deserve the very best and when the very best is beyond my price-range I'm not above accepting charity to provide you with the best."

"Why are you saying all this? Why are your palms so sweaty?"

He took a deep shaky breath. "God, right, I'm rambling. I swear it went way better when I practiced this." He shook his head nervously and then returned his focus to me with a quivering smile. "I guess the short of it is: I love you. And now that we are just a couple of super normal guys," He said proudly, as it had been a long road for us both to achieve that sense of normalcy, "I figured the best way to show you how much I love you is by doing what normal people do when they love each other."

I stared at him quizzically. My heart was beating at an oddly rapid pace as I waited for him to continue.

"I was going to get you the house as an engagement present, instead of a ring. But since Quatre insisted on getting us this house, I guess it's his engagement present to us now, so…" He let go of my right hand and reached into the inside pocket of his jacket, producing a velvet box. "I got you this." He popped open the box with his thumb presenting the fittingly simple ring to me. "I figured you wouldn't appreciate something flashy and sparkly," He said with a chuckle, observing my shocked face. "I also figured you'd prefer me to not go down on one knee, but if you do want me to-"

"Oh God, no."

We shared a brief laugh.

"I feel like I've already rambled on for way to long. All that is left for me to do is ask you: Will you marry me?" Duo looked at me expectantly.

"I don't know what to say."

His face blanched.

"I don't know what to say," I repeated, smiling at him to reassure him. "I don't want to sound like those women in those awful romantic comedies that you make me watch."

He let out a hearty laugh. "You could say "No", they hardly ever say that. But… I'd prefer if you just said "Yes"."

"Yes."

"Yes?" His face lit up, even though the answer could not have come as a surprise to him.

"Yes."

Duo leaned forward and pressed his mouth against mine, guiding my hands to his shoulders after which he wrapped his arms around my waist. We both completely forgot about the ring, passionately kissing and caressing each other.

Eventually I ended the kiss and mischievously inquired: "About the pitter-patter of little feet…"

"Dogs! Or cats!" He hurried to explain.

"Really? Seems like such a waste of those extra bedrooms."

Duo arched an eyebrow. Hopeful, he wondered: "Are you saying…?"

"No." I innocently shook my head. "But in a couple of years I might."

He grinned. With one arms around my waist and one hand grasping my buttocks he lifted me up and carried me to the table where he put me down. "I love you," He whispered huskily in my ear. "But the neighbors are going to hate us." To demonstrate his point he licked the shell of my ear and I moaned loudly. He wanted to unbutton my shirt and only then seemed to remember he was still holding the box with the ring. "Shit, I almost forgot. I swear I practiced this." He took my hand and ceremoniously slipped the ring onto the appropriate finger.

We had loud sex in the back yard and by the time we came back to the house with a moving truck a few days later, a red-faced neighbor with a casserole dish approached us, welcoming us to the neighborhood and reminding us that children played in the back yards. She was nice though, they all were, if a little more conventional than Duo and I had ever strived for.

We got married at city hall. I didn't like the idea of a big ceremony and I didn't want to wait. When we came home all our friends were waiting for us in the back yard, something Duo had arranged.

Life didn't really change much. That was a comfort. Everything was so effortless and natural. We had each other, we had our home, we had our friends and we had our jobs, it wasn't until AC 203 that we decided to try for more; the pitter patter.

We initially preferred adoption but with our sketchy pasts we were not considered top notch candidates. After having three attempts at adoption fall through in a relatively late stage of the process we were advised to try surrogacy to avoid further heart ache and walls of red tape. We sought the help of an agency that pairs prospective parents to willing surrogates. They introduced us to Nicky Bryer, a wonderful mother of two, married to an understanding an supportive husband. She had already been a surrogate for another couple. Duo thought the whole situation was a little "iffy", making him hesitant, but I had no concept of what "iffy" meant. Nicky and her husband, Mark, soon erased any trace of "iffy", being kind and welcoming to us. The fact that she would be carrying a child that would be parented by two males was absolutely no issue for her. When the four of us agreed to the surrogacy, we paid the agency, who, in turn, paid the Bryers and the wheels were set in motion.

Duo and I were both to donate sperm. One of our 'contributions' – as Duo affectionately pegged it – was to be chosen randomly and used to fertilize the eggs of an anonymous donor. However, before proceeding the agency's laboratory ran blood-tests on both of us and the results changed the procedure. It was discovered that Duo was a carrier for Tay-Sachs disease. Even though Nicky was not a carrier and there would be no health-risk to the child we were trying to conceive, there would be a considerable chance that the child would inherit the recessive gene from Duo and become a carrier themselves, which could potentially be quite a burden when the time came for the child to have offspring.

Duo made light of situation. "The decision is even more simple then. Heero will be the biological father."

I felt self-conscious and guilty about this. Odds were that with the ideal, randomized, procedure, we still would have been able to tell whose 'contribution' was used, but at least then it would have been fair. I worried Duo would feel left out, the child would be my child, the egg-donor's child and – in a way – Nicky's child. Three people – who weren't him – would have a physical, biological connection to the child, yet he was supposed to be one of the 'real' fathers.

Duo eased away my concerns. He assured me he would feel like a real father and be a real father to the child. To prove his point he reminded me of the fact that we were initially going to adopt and he asked me if I would feel any less like a parent because I lacked a genetic relation to it.

I didn't think that would be the case, so I accepted his logic and we went ahead with the procedure.

Duo assisted me with my 'contribution' – prompting all sorts of "baby-making" jokes for weeks to come – and succeeded in making the clinical process romantic and intimate.

By the time Nicky had been successfully implanted with the embryos, confirmed with a drug-store pregnancy test that she proudly showed us, it was August, AC 204.

Nicky was remarkably accommodating, welcoming us into her life like reacquainting with old friends, rather than getting to know strangers, while at the same time retaining a sense of professionalism regarding the child she was carrying for us. She let us into her life, to make us feel at ease and close to the child, while not forcing herself into ours, maintaining a distance that we were free to upkeep following the birth of the child. Her only request was for us to send her at least one picture a year, as the couple she had been a surrogate for before did. We were more than willing to give her a part in child's life and vice versa. She could be the "cool aunt" and when the child was old enough we would tell him or her how "cool aunt Nicky" helped bring him or her into the world. Nicky was thrilled. It solidified the friendship between "The Maxwells" and "The Bryers".

We accompanied her on every check-up, fussing over every little thing. I devoted myself to the pregnancy and the upcoming birth, becoming a little bit of a control freak, but Duo knew how to reel me in when he had to. It was such an amazing time, full of excitement and anticipation.

We allowed ourselves to be lulled into a false sense of security. We let our guards down. We stopped expecting the worst; let alone preparing for the worst. We let ourselves be overwhelmed with hope and joy and other things as fragile as glass. We just didn't realize they were fragile as glass, not until we cut ourselves on the shards as everything fell apart around us.

* * *

**AC 206**

Nearly seven years. Nearly seven years we had been happy. But it didn't feel like nearly seven years anymore, not to me. It felt like the first ten minutes of a horror movie. Everything is perfect, happiness rooted in blissful ignorance. Everything is perfect until the masked man with the hatchet comes.

A shock ran through my body when Duo suddenly shot upright beside me with a grunt. I could see the blue glow of the moon in the sheen of sweat on his bare back.

"Are you okay?" I slowly sat up.

His head hung forward. He buried his hands in his hair. "No," his voice cracked.

I knew how to calm him, I knew how to ease his mind. I knew how to hold him, I knew how to kiss him, I knew what to say. I've comforted him in the aftermath of many nightmares, as he did me, we knew each other better than we knew ourselves. But I didn't do anything as he panted and tried to regain his composure. I sat back against the carved wood headboard and fidgeted with the frilly edge of the floral bed sheets. I supposed I didn't comfort him because it was time we learned how to comfort ourselves. But I had to suppress every instinct not to reach out to him. We had become so dependent of each other, he of me and I of him, it wasn't healthy, I just didn't realize it before. I didn't realize how crippling it could be to always be leaning on somebody, once the time came that person couldn't always be at your side.

He scraped his throat. "What time is it?"

"Two thirty." I replied. There was no need for me to consult the clock on the bedside table, I had been checking the time constantly as the night dragged on.

"Have you slept at all?"

"No. Can't."

He nodded. "For some reason I never have trouble sleeping…" He says guiltily. "But it hasn't been very… restful lately, you know?"

My turn to nod.

"We'll stay up together. See if you can find the remote to that thing," He pointed his thumb at the small television on the dresser at the foot of the bed. Duo got out of bed, still naked from before, and blindly found his way to the bathroom, explaining he wanted to splash some water on his face.

On behalf of irrational modesty I retrieved a clean pair of underwear from the bag I brought with me and quickly found the remote in the top drawer of the nightstand on Duo's side of the bed. I turned on the TV and started flipping through the channels of nighttime television. Mostly home shopping programs, reruns of old series and soft core porn. When Duo and I first started living together we watched a lot of nighttime television. With memories of the war still troubling us, watching dull television was, at times, the only way we could eventually fall asleep.

"I'm going to take a quick shower," He called from the bathroom and then I heard water running.

Probably not a bad idea, I thought to myself. We both still smelled like sex from before.

I settled on an episode of some old comedy series. The jokes weren't exactly amusing to me, but the only point of it was to have a distraction and make the silence less awkward.

When a chirping sound pierced the room I didn't think anything of it, expecting it to be coming from the television. But when the characters didn't react to a ringing phone, it dawned on me that the sound was coming from the floor to my right. I snapped my head to look around me and noticed our clothes strewn across the carpeted floor. The sound came from the pile of denim that were Duo's dark jeans. His phone was ringing.

I stared.

His phone was ringing.

Apprehensively I crawled out of the bed and stalked towards the source of the sound. I rummaged through the seemingly shapeless pile of fabric, in search of the pocket. I grabbed the vibrating phone and pulled it free.

"Hilde," I whispered, as that was the name that appeared on the screen.

The water was still running in the bathroom. Duo must have not heard his phone. He must have purposefully changed the ringtone to a soft sound in case the situation was reverse, with me just out of earshot, since I had such a powerful, negative reaction whenever she called.

A devious thought popped up. I could ignore it. I could just let it ring and not answer it.

I sighed. That wasn't going to change anything, except make me a dick, if I wasn't already for just thinking stuff like that.

I couldn't answer myself. I got up from the floor and hurried through the doorway to the bathroom.

"Duo, your phone."

"What?" He wiped the glass door of the shower stall clean to peer at me with quizzical eyes.

I turned the screen for him to see. "It's Hilde," I said, as if that wasn't already abundantly clear from her name in all capitals on the screen. The phone was still chirping and buzzing, she wasn't hanging up. That, combined with the late hour, made me fearful.

"Shit." For a moment he just stared as the glass gradually fogged up again.

"You have to answer," I urged.

He shook his head. "Right!" He practically ripped the door open, leaving the water running – he was so distracted. With wet, slick hands he accepted the phone from me, nearly dropping it in the process. He started shaking as he answered the call and brought the phone to his ear. I'm pretty sure he wasn't cold though, it was hot and humid in the small, poorly ventilated space.

"Hello?" His voice didn't even sound like his.

I couldn't hear Hilde's voice, but what she said I could read on his face. It took me back to that time she called, mere weeks after Duo confessed to me he had slept with her, and I answered and brought the phone to Duo, who was working in the garage.

I knew she was pregnant before he told me.

I knew she was in labor before he told me.

It was an eerie gap, a twilight zone, between the realization and the confirmation.

"She's in labor!" Duo exclaimed, shocked and scared.

I nodded dumbly.

"How is this even possible, you're not due for a couple more weeks?"

This time I heard her. She screamed. "Well, it's fucking premature you dumbass!"

"Right… Right…" Duo replied meekly. "No, we are nowhere near DC!" Duo said frantically. "We are just outside of Louisville! I'm going to get a flight, I'll be there. I'll be there." He promptly hung up the phone and shot back into the bedroom, stepping into his underwear and pants and trying to simultaneously put on his shirt and pack his bag.

I sighed and leaned into the shower stall to turn off the water. "No, Duo…" I took the bag from him and pulled a clean sweater out of it. "I ripped the buttons on that," I reminded him matter-of-factly.

"Shit, right."

As Duo exchanged the ruined shirt for the sweater I quickly got dressed myself. I kept all my feelings safely tucked away because it was clear to me I needed to be calm since Duo was completely lost and clearly couldn't think straight.

"You think we'll be able to get a last-minute flight?"

He made a face. "I don't know," He said breathlessly.

I hurried to leave a note and money for the owner of the bed and breakfast as we left the romantic room behind us in a flurry.

Duo had his phone pinched between his ear and shoulder, needing both hands to steer the mint green convertible out of the tiny parking lot.

"I could call."

"No, I don't want… this isn't your problem. It isn't your responsibility," He snapped. "Shit, I'm sorry, I didn't mean- Yes, hello? Is this the USA Travel desk at the Louisville airport? I need two tickets to Washington DC."

Preparing for a long night I rubbed my tired eyes and took a swig from the bottle of water I had packed yesterday.

The car rumbled with effort as Duo floored the gas pedal in an attempt to make good time. Even just getting to the Louisville airport would take us over two hours.

"No, we need to be on a plane to Washington DC tonight! Yes, tonight!"

I shrunk in my seat at Duo's dangerous tone. In the past ten minutes he had spoken to several airlines based in Louisville and of the few flights heading out for DC tonight, none had available seats.

"She put me on hold," He ground through his teeth. "Bitch put me on hold."

I didn't respond. He was stressed and furious, nothing I could say could alleviate that.

"Please, you are my last option! Look… No. No. That's not good enough. I can't take that risk. We can't just wait there and hope two people don't show up for their flight. I need to be in DC, like… ten minutes ago!"

Realizing this wasn't going anywhere I reached out and snatched the phone out of his hand and hung up on the desk clerk.

"What are you doing?"

"I have an idea." I started to dial a number and the phone recognized it and suggested: "Call Quatre?" I pressed OK and brought the phone to my ear.

"Why are you calling Quatre?"

"Didn't you always say that having a billionaire as a friend would come in handy one day?"

"I think I used the word "gazillionaire". Besides… He's not really my friend anymore," He spoke forlorn.

"He is," I assured him while the phone continued to ring. "He just hides it very well."

Duo didn't seem to believe me.

My call was answered but nothing was said. "Quatre?" I asked.

"Heero," said Trowa with a groggy yet distinctly confused voice. "Why are you calling at this hour? And on Duo's phone?"

"I left mine at home. We need Quatre's help. Could you please give him the phone?"

"Okay. Hold on a second."

I heard him say with a muffled voice: "Quatre, it's for you. It's not Duo, it's Heero."

"Heero?" Quatre sounded equally tired upon accepting the call.

"Quatre. You told me I should call you if I needed anything. "Anything", you said." I looked over at Duo meaningfully.

"Yes, of course," Replied the blonde.

When we arrived at the Louisville airport there was a private jet waiting for us. Quatre's private jet that was always on standby for him for visits to Earth was out of range, but the blonde businessman made a few calls and discovered that one of his business associates from Europe was in Kentucky for the week, with his jet parked at a private airfield in Lexington. Nobody ever said 'no' to Quatre, so when the young owner and CEO of a multi-billion dollar enterprise called the Earth bound businessmen to ask for his jet, the man was more than happy to comply and arranged for the jet to rush to the Louisville airport to meet us.

Duo kept nervously cradling his phone. Despite his brain being scrambled from the stress, he found the coherency to tell me that Hilde had actually been in labor for several hours before she finally called. Having had several episodes of false contractions and the due date still a couple weeks away, she had convinced herself it was another false alarm. It wasn't until her water broke – which she initially wrote off, embarrassed, as having wet her bed – she realized the baby had decided to mess with her schedule and come early, even before the date that had been set for her to be induced. She had warned him to hurry, the contractions were already very close together and upon her arrival at the hospital the doctor concluded she was well on her way to being fully dilated. At which point she gathered her wits enough to pick up the phone and call us.

I felt sorry for her. She must have been scared and stressed and she had wanted Duo to be there for support and now he threatened to miss the birth. I had been selfish, thinking only of me and my need to have Duo in my life. I should have hurried the trip along. I felt guilty because Duo might miss the birth of his child because he wasted time on me.

We followed a man in a reflective yellow vest across the tarmac of the airfield as rain beat down on our shoulders. The pilot met us at the door of the jet.

"Guten Morgen," He greeted, tipping his hat to us.

Duo just pushed past him, hurrying to take a seat.

"Guten Morgen," I replied and took a seat across the aisle from Duo, being enveloped by the soft leather and thick cushions of the seat.

In German the pilot explained to us that the stewardess could not make it to the Lexington airstrip in time, but we were welcome to help ourselves to drinks and snacks. There was a small, practical kitchen in the back.

Duo's German, unlike his French, was quite good, but he couldn't focus and just kept glaring at the man, silently urging him to skip the pleasantries and hurry up.

The pilot got the message soon enough and disappeared into the cockpit. I got a brief glimpse of the co-pilot as the door opened.

"It's probably a good thing, that she isn't calling, right?"

I offered him a smile and dumbly nodded. Or it means she is delivering your child right this very moment, I thought to myself.

As the jet took off into the sky, I remembered the last time I was on a plane. We were headed for nomansville Texas, to meet a young, pregnant woman who was putting her child up for adoption and wanted to meet all the prospective parents, so she could make a well-informed decision. She picked us. The four months following that amazing news, we exchanged weekly emails. She included pictures of her growing belly and the 3D scans of the baby, growing within her. The representative of the adoption agency called us to inform us she had given birth. Although we were mostly elated, we were a little peeved that we hadn't been contacted sooner, the arrangement was that we could be at the hospital during the delivery, so we could see the child – a girl – immediately. The representatives tone turned morose.

"You don't understand," She had said. "I'm calling to tell you that she has decided to keep the baby."

Apparently the mother had been getting doubts. Her emails had been getting curt, but she never gave us any warning. She told the agency that she wanted to retract permission for us to be called as soon as she went into labor. She predicted that, after the birth, she would change her mind. She did.

Duo was very angry. It had happened a few times before, by then, the adoption falling through at the last moment. He threw the phone into the wall and he grabbed the wooden dresser in our bedroom and, barefoot, he kicked it until I managed to stop him. By then the two bottom drawers were splintered and he had broken his foot.

When his foot had healed we started looking into surrogacy.

At that point I was already tired of it. I had doubts whether we should make another attempt. All we did, or so it seemed to me, was make ourselves vulnerable to more heart ache. But Duo told me I had to keep faith. We would be good parents, so we deserved to be parents. If we persevered, it would happen. I didn't believe the universe worked like that, but I trusted him, as I always had. I held onto the dream. We both did.

Now he would have a child. And I would not. According to his logic, that meant that he deserved to be a parent and I didn't. It had crossed my mind many times. Why did I ever let myself think I deserved to be allowed to nurture a new life? All I ever did was end lives. And when I stopped doing that, what did I become? 'The James Bond of computers'? That's how Duo put it. That wasn't my identity, that was my job. I wasn't a killer anymore, that was true, but what was I? All I was was a man who loved Duo.

Duo cleansed me of all the bad and all the dark that was within me. But neither of us ever thought to add something new. All I ever did was fill myself with more love for Duo. More love for that life we were building. And more love for each child that we missed out on. I was nothing but love for others. While not bad, that wasn't enough. I became unhealthily dependent on Duo. If I didn't feel loved back, like when he confessed to me he had cheated on me with Hilde, I didn't feel validated as a person; I felt useless, aimless, worthless.

It felt… it felt like without him I wouldn't be a real person anymore. I would either revert back into the machine that I had been for a long time, or – perhaps even worse – I could become nothing; nothing at all. I didn't exactly know what that meant but I started to get a clearer understanding of what that would feel like and it was gut-wrenching.

A person like that shouldn't be allowed to be a parent. If the universe – or a God – had any say in the matter, I could argue that it – He? – was right not to grant me a child. And perhaps it would be best for me to remove myself from this new life that Duo had now created, to save it from my influences as a jealous, dependent, faceless person.

I felt sick suddenly. Clutching my stomach I hurried to the small bathroom at the front, beside the cockpit's door.

Duo called my name with a concerned, questioning tone.

Through clenched teeth I told him I was fine and then locked myself into the tiny restroom. I hunched over the toilet bowl but I didn't throw up. I wished I could, I had hope it would make me feel better, but it wasn't happening. I was stuck with that sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.

This isn't what I wanted to become, I thought to myself. I had wanted to become my own person. A full person. A strong person. I thought I had been on the brink of that when I finally found the strength to free myself from Hendrik and chase my heart's desire: Duo. But in my bliss I must have lost focus at some early stage of the process, because I never became that person. Living with Duo, loving Duo, I falsely believed I had achieved that strength, but I was just as dependent of him as I had been of J and of Hendrik. I hadn't even realized it, because it felt so good being with him and loving him. It felt so right. I never needed to be strong, because he was strong, so it never occurred to me that I wasn't, not until Duo's strength wavered and I collapsed to the ground along with him.

Now I stood to lose everything. It felt like drifting away into outer space, being swallowed by the nothingness between here and the stars.

There was a soft knock on the foldable door. "Heero?"

"Just leave me alone," I cried.

He stood by the door for a long time. Maybe confused. Maybe shocked. Maybe hurt. Then I heard his footsteps leave, in compliance with my request.

I flushed the toilet out of habit and then turned in the small space to wash my hands and splash water in my face.

I looked at myself in the narrow mirror above the tiny sink.

I had set myself up for failure, by becoming far too clingy. Duo was the one who took a swing at me, when he cheated. But I was the one who never brought his hands up to defend himself. If I had, maybe I wouldn't be hurting so bad right now, maybe, then, I wouldn't have felt like the battle was over and that I had been knocked out. Maybe I could have stood my ground for the rounds to come and have the strength to stand beside Duo as he became a father.

Right now, I feared that I only managed to hold on because I was so goddamn afraid of letting go and drifting away into empty space.

Less sick, but utterly exhausted and defeated, I exited the restroom.

Duo watched me intently. I gave him a look that warned him not to comment and sat back down.

The sun had risen. The orange glow that warmed the earth was magnificent. Looking at it eased my mind. With the frightening blackness of the night gone, my thoughts calmed and became less disorganized.

From the corner of my eye I noticed Duo was silently crying. He tried to hide it, but constantly wiping his eyes and tilting his head down was actually what gave him away.

I sighed. I didn't want to make him feel like that. Despite the circumstances, he was about to become a father, he was allowed to be happy about that.

Out of the blue, I told him so.

Duo stared at me, shocked at just hearing me speak. "I love you," He reiterated. It was important for him that I knew that.

"I know. I love you too." How much of a reassurance that was to him, I did not know. He too must have come to the realization that our love might not be enough.

The German pilot informed us over the intercom that we had arrived at Washington DC, but flight control had instructed them to circle the airport at altitude until a runway became available.

Duo gripped the leather armrests tightly.

By the time we touched down the sun had fully risen and as time passed Duo became increasingly antsy. It took another while until the jet had taxied to an area of the tarmac where we were allowed to disembark. The pilot apologized, but as an unscheduled flight, airport control had trouble making time and room for us.

As bad luck would have it, we hadn't taken as much as three steps onto the tarmac, when Duo's phone rang. He stopped dead in his tracks.

"Hilde. It's Hilde," He said dumbly.

He is a father, I knew. I knew. But Duo seemed almost reluctant to accept it, despite the fact that we had spent years – and tears – trying to become parents. This isn't how he had wanted it, I knew that. In spite of everything, I could sympathize. "Answer it," I urged it once more.

He did and I looked away. I didn't want to see it on his face. I didn't have to either. Instead, I stared at the sun, until my eye caught the twinkle of a colony passing through the clear blue sky and I followed it.

"Oh my God," Was all Duo said for a long time. Then, after receiving the overwhelming information, he told Hilde we had just landed and we would be there shortly. He apologized for not making it in time, then he hung up.

I turned around and my heart ached when I saw him clearly torn between joy and misery. Mustering all my courage, I said: "Congratulations, dad."

He appeared too dazed for my words to register. Slowly, a small smile started to appear. With shy eyes he looked up at me. "It's a boy," he said.

I offered him a smile in return. I hadn't expected it – I thought I was too bitter for it – but I was happy for him. I always thought he would make a wonderful father, it was a big reason why I suggested for us to start on our journey towards parenthood in the first place, because I knew how much he wanted it, how much it would mean to him and what a lucky child that would be.

"It's a boy," He repeated. The smile disappeared. He started to sob. "It's a boy."

I rushed to him, instinctively, and held him tight to comfort him, knowing what he was thinking of, as I was thinking it too. I embraced him for selfish reasons too. I knew having him hug me back would console me as well. As much as possible.

* * *

**AC 205**

"Maybe I shouldn't go," Duo vocalized his doubts again as he stood in front of the mirror finishing up braiding his hair.

I chuckled breathily and stretched out on the tousled sheets of our bed, still eyebrow deep in post-orgasm bliss. "You look forward to this convention for weeks every year. You love it."

"I know I love it, but there are things I love more," He eyed me through the mirror mischievously.

"Well… It's also a good opportunity to meet potential new clients and get into contact with new suppliers. It's important for the garage."

"I know, but there are things that are more important."

I smiled at him. "It's just a routine scan. I'll make sure to get a disc for you."

He turned around and eyed me hungrily, even though he had just gotten dressed after a lengthy episode of love-making, I could tell he was contemplating ripping his clothes off and joining me in bed again. "I'm not just talking about Nicky's check-up. It's Valentine's Day. I should be with my husband on Valentine's Day." He knelt by the bed and kissed me.

"You've already given me a wonderful present," I pointed out. "I didn't think I could come again so soon."

He chuckled softly. "Seriously though…"

"I am being serious. There is nothing special or magical about this particular day. You know I don't think much of holidays anyway."

"Yeah," He got up with a sigh. "I do know. But there is nothing wrong with celebrating our relationship."

"We have our anniversary for that," I said dryly. I really didn't care about holidays or anniversaries, I felt special every day, but I did recognize that making a day for things was important to Duo.

"Still. I thought maybe we should celebrate Valentine's day anyway. Maybe we could celebrate it when I get back?" From the top drawer of the dresser he produced a gift wrapped in red paper and tied with a silver bow. He placed it on the nightstand at my side of the bed.

"You know I don't think much of presents either."

"Yes. But this one you'll like."

I glanced at it. "It's lube."

"How did you know that?" He demanded.

"Oh please! The size, the shape, the smug little face you made!" I laughed.

"I made no such face."

I cocked an eyebrow.

"Fine. Just don't open it anyway until I get back, okay? And maybe act a little surprised?"

"It's lube. What do you want from me? For me to give an elaborate acceptance speech?"

He sputtered: "It happens to be a special fucking lube, okay!" He laughed. "You've become way too good at the whole dry-sarcasm thing."

I winked at him.

He reached down to pick up his bag, securing the strap over his shoulder. "Are you sure?"

"Yes! Go!" I really wasn't all that eager for him to leave. Every year he went to a vintage car convention on the East coast for a weekend and each year I missed him. But the event always made him happy and that was most important to me.

He gave me an intense, passionate kiss goodbye and then stepped out of the bedroom. A few seconds later I heard the front door shut.

I went about my day as usual. I worked in my office, remotely taking control over clients computers to fix problems –mostly caused by downloading infected pornographic material. Later that afternoon I would meet up with Nicky and Mark at the hospital for a regular check-up. Nicky was already six months pregnant, it was hard to believe, but exciting to think that in a few months we would finally be putting the already decorated nursery to use. Duo went kind of crazy in the stuffed animal aisle in the toy store. The cashier gave us odd but endeared looks at the amount of unnaturally colored specimens of the animal kingdom we acquired.

I had my doubts about how good of a parent I would be, even after all the parenting books I had read, but whenever Duo brought home yet another stuffed animal, I felt reassured. I didn't really understand it, but I welcomed it.

He had decorated the nursery right by our bedroom beautifully, with yellow, green and orange colors, because we wanted to be prepared but didn't want to know the gender yet.

I was pretty sure it was a boy though. I had seen something on the 3D scans that made me pretty confident. Duo argued that it could be part of the umbilical cord, between the legs, but he was excited about the possibility nevertheless. Although I was certain he would have been equally as excited if we had come to suspect it to be a girl.

When the phone rang I automatically reached for my work cellphone, I had been answering calls all day. But it was the home phone that was ringing. I walked to the bedroom to answer it.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Heero," said Mark, a little out of breath. "I just got a call from Nicky. She's at the hospital."

I checked my wristwatch. "The appointment isn't until three thirty," I noted. "Did the appointment get moved up?"

"I don't know, she hung up. All she said was that she was at the hospital now and that I should call you and Duo," Mark explained. "I'm on my way now. If you guys can't make it, I'm sure it'll be fine. I'll give you a call about how it went."

"Duo is away for the weekend," I checked my watch again, "But I can be at the hospital in twenty minutes, just have to reschedule a client first."

"Okay, great. I'll see you there."

"She didn't sound like there was anything wrong?" I thought to ask.

"No, not really. She sounded… tired I guess. But she has been on her feet all day, at the mall. Hey, I just pulled into the hospital parking lot, I'll see you in a couple of minutes okay?"

"Yeah, okay."

"Oh and Heero? I'm sure everything is fine, don't stress yourself out, 'kay?"

I smiled. Mark knew I was kind of overly worrisome. "Thanks. I'll see you soon."

I hung up and contacted the client whose computer I had been working on, telling him I'd be back in an hour or two and I'd continue debugging his system then. On my way out, car keys in hand, I called Duo to tell him the appointment had been moved up. Standing in the doorway I could hear the familiar ring of Duo's cellphone coming from upstairs. During his fretting about whether or not he should go, he forgot his phone. It's a bad habit of his that happened more often than I cared for. I didn't like it whenever he forgot his phone, it always gave me an irrational sense of dread that I couldn't shake.

Grumbling under my breath I got into the SUV – Duo had taken the sedan to the airport – and headed for the hospital. Waiting at a red light I sent him a curt email; "call me". I hurriedly pressed 'send' to keep up with the caravan of cars moving forward again at the green light.

I spotted Mark's car – an oddly colored seven-seater SUV – as I circled to find a parking place.

When I stepped into the hospital, I had no idea of the nightmare I was walking into.

I was on my way to the fourth floor, where Nicky's OBGYN was stationed, when a nurse stopped me.

"Can I help you find someone, sir?"

I figured I might as well get more precise directions. "I'm here for Nicky Bryer."

The keys of the keyboard rattled as she searched the database for the name. "Yes. I have a notation here that they are expecting a Heero Yuy."

"That's me."

"Misses Bryar is in the Emergency room, Private room three." The administrative nurse rose from her seat and leaned over the counter to point at a door. "The ER is right through those doors."

ER? I was alarmed but told myself to calm down.

I went through the doors and stopped dead in my tracks to avoid colliding with a doctor sprinting from one end of the room to the other. Scanning the room I located Private Room three quickly. I crossed through the bustling activity of the ER.

I opened the door and at first I was relieved to see Nicky sitting in the bed, centered in the room, Mark on a chair beside her, her bulging belly covered by a white blanket. It wasn't until the details of the image started registering that I wished I had never opened the door.

Their expressions were unmistakable; devastated. Mark was trying to put up a brave front, but his lower lip was quivering. Nicky had tears spilling from her red, puffy eyes and she made the most pathetic "Oh!" when she saw me standing in the doorway.

No, I decided. No.

She looked at her husband and begged him: "You have to tell him. I- I can't."

Mark looked at me, opened his mouth, but… nothing.

I shook my head.

Nicky sobbed and nodded her head.

Mark started telling the story, but I wasn't listening. He had to tell me again a few weeks later. Nicky had been at the mall. Just as she stepped onto the escalator, already being partly off balance due to the localized extra weight, two teenagers – being chased by a mall cop – pushed past her. She had lost her equilibrium and fell down almost the entire length of the stairs, wounding herself on the edges of the unforgiving metal steps. Her stomach took a number of hard, sharp blows causing severe placental abruption. The trauma caused both mother and child great distress. Because of the abruption the baby no longer received oxygenized blood. When the paramedics arrived they already couldn't find a heartbeat, but they didn't want to tell her. They rushed her to the hospital. There, the doctor confirmed that the baby had been deprived of oxygen, resulting in brain death and, following shortly after, heart failure.

They were scheduling an OR. The stillborn child would be delivered via C-section.

Mark was very clinical and detached in his explanation, but at the time I wasn't paying much attention to him. I just kept hearing Nicky say: "You don't deserve this. You don't deserve this. You don't deserve this."

But maybe I did, I thought to myself, still predominantly in shock. I used to be a bad person. I had taken so many lives. Now, the most precious life had been taken from me. It was my fault. I had no right to allow anyone to convince me otherwise.

I was frozen in the doorway, I couldn't step towards them, but I didn't have the sense to leave either.

I remembered Duo kicking his foot against the dresser until both were broken. I hated myself, knowing I was responsible for doing that to him again. Having to break the news to him caused me a sharp pain and a sick feeling in my stomach.

What happened then, was lost to me.

I think I might have screamed.

The next moment I remembered I was sitting on the floor in the hallway of a different part of the hospital, my back against the wall, my legs pulled up against my chest. Everything ached. I was vaguely aware that I had just witnessed the birth of my dead child from the gallery overlooking OR two. The sights wouldn't haunt me until they appeared to me in nightmares that following night and every night thereafter for many months.

Only one thing was stuck in my mind: It's a boy.

Mark abandoned his vigil over his recovering wife several times to quickly come check on me. He would crouch down next to me and talk to me, but his words were nothing but incoherent echoes interfering with each other. He would be the one to eventually track down Duo and urge him to hurry home and come to the hospital. He hadn't told Duo the specifics, but Duo later told me that part of him knew before he arrived at the hospital, but the bigger part of him insisted on denial.

It took him several hours to get home. The light coming through the window at the end of the hallway was orange, but I didn't know if it was the sun setting on Valentine's day, or the sun rising on the fifteenth.

A broken voice called out my name.

With barely any strength left I raised my head and I saw the blurred outline of a man in black that I knew to be my husband.

He stopped and stared at me. My face and my broken body beat him over the head with what he didn't want to know. His face contorted with agony. He buried his hands in his hair, then covered his face, then made fists at his temples as he processed the unwanted information.

With big steps he came to stand by me and knelt down.

All I ever thought to tell him was: "It's a boy. It's a boy."

He sobbed, looking away first, like he was trying to be strong for the both of us, but he soon gave up and wrapped his arms around me, crying into my shoulder.

"It's a boy," I repeated. Tears started to sting my eyes anew. Only because it hurt so much to cry did I realize how much I had been crying until then.

The doctor later came and – at Duo's request – took us to see him. I didn't want to see him. I knew I would eventually remember how his tiny, bloodied body looked as they pulled him from the red gash in Nicky's once so beautiful, big belly. I didn't think I could handle more. I lingered in the doorway of the morgue, shivering in the cool air. Duo was guided to a table, where a sheet covered an impossibly small form.

Duo later told me the nurses had dressed him, like they would any newborn baby boy; wrapped in a soft, white blanket with bears frolicking along the hem and a baby blue hat that was too big for him.

At first, when the doctor pulled back the sheet to uncover the body, Duo collapsed back against the desk behind him, before he steadied himself and managed to step up to the table again, gently stroking the still infant over his head. I could have sworn I hears the dripping sounds of Duo's tears hitting the stainless steel table in the silence.

"Heero, you should come see him."

"No."

"Heero-"

"No, I don't want to!" I screamed hoarsely.

"Take as much time as you need," Said the doctor, then he left us in the cold, macabre space of the basement morgue, several floors down from the warm, colorful nursery where the story should have come to a happy ending.

He was buried four days later. Duo insisted we should name him. We had to put something on his headstone and we needed a name to call him by. He attended the counseling sessions diligently and informed me that the counselor said it would be helpful in the grieving process.

After a heated argument, where emotions ran high - I didn't want to think of what to call him, because I never wanted to speak of the tragedy again - I agreed with Duo's suggestion for a name.

We had his marble headstone inscribed: "Leander Maxwell-Yuy, Valentine's day AC 205".

Leander is a name from Greek mythology, of a young man who swam across an ocean strait every night to be with his beloved, who would light a candle in her window to guide him to her in the dark. One night a storm blew out the candle and forced the ocean into tall, powerful waves. Leander was lost in the dark, he couldn't find his way and he ended up drowning. His beloved would never see him again.

Based in tragedy, the name seemed befitting.

Duo framed the 3D scans from previous doctor visits and put them on the mantle. I couldn't look at them and didn't understand that he could. He said it was difficult for him too to see the small features clearly defined in the womb, but he didn't want to pretend that it never happened, that he was never real just because he never took a breath of his own nor opened his eyes to see the world. Duo thought it was important that we recognized he was part of our lives and always would be.

I preferred to forget. It was too painful. And honestly, I felt silly every time I was reminded of how foolish I had been to believe we could have this happiness, let alone deserve it.

Duo asked me what I wanted to do with the nursery. I didn't answer. I thought it over that night, my Valentine's day present from three weeks before still wrapped and untouched on my nightstand. I got up, stepped into the nursery for the first time and I started ripping everything apart. I tore the green and yellow patterned wallpaper from the walls, ripped the orange curtains, bringing the rod down with them, snapped the wood of the crib into unrecognizable pieces and pulled heads and limbs off the stuffed animals. Not until I was done, panting, did I realize Duo had been standing in the doorway the whole time.

He seemed frightened and distraught.

After that I shut myself off. I forced every thought of Leander from my mind and barricaded my heart, to the point where I had no emotional reaction to anything anymore. It was the only way I knew how to protect myself. I couldn't let Duo touch me either, I didn't even like making eye-contact with him anymore. The pain in his eyes and the yearning gentleness of his touch reminded me of all I wanted to forget. I was distant and curt, which only evoked more anger and sadness in Duo. Unwittingly I was tormenting him.

One night I noticed my Valentine's Day present was gone.

I didn't say anything.

Another night I noticed Duo decided to sleep in the guest bedroom.

I didn't say anything.

We slept apart for weeks and barely spoke to each other during that time. I'd be lying if I denied that it was easier for me that way. But eventually I supposed Duo decided that in spite of what I was putting him through, he wasn't going to give up on me, or us.

Our relationship became an uneasy alliance. At times we seemed to be normal again, to outsiders, but it never felt normal.

All that time I hated those in utero pictures of Leander above the fireplace. Especially when our friends insisted on coming over. It was the pink elephant in the room that no one dared to speak about. Eventually I took it upon myself to relocate the three picture frames to the garage. I barely spend any time there, Duo most of his time, to escape the tension in the house. If he wanted to look at them, he was free to, but I wasn't going to anymore.

We had a huge argument. Well, I didn't say much, Duo just mostly yelled at me and I actively ignored him.

He accused me that I wasn't dealing with the loss. He was angry at me for trying to pretend that Leander never even existed.

I just couldn't understand how he was okay with saying his name, let alone seeing his face.

When I saw Duo had defiantly put one of the pictures on his nightstand I spent the night vomiting and dry heaving over the toilet. Duo sat by me all night, caressing my back in an attempt to comfort me. I was too tired to fight him off, and my throat was too sore to tell him to leave me alone.

The picture disappeared and I never saw it again.

Things improved after that, albeit not for long. I felt like Duo finally understood and accepted what I needed; to put it behind me. He didn't push me anymore to face what had happened. We grew a little closer, a little more comfortable around each other. At times we even shared a laugh. It was bittersweet, but better than just plain bitter.

Not before long, everything went wrong again. Horribly wrong.

We had shared a quiet Christmas and were asleep in bed before the fireworks burst in the sky at midnight when AC 205 made way for AC 206. The New Year started with a bang regardless.

Perhaps it had been his New Year's resolution, to try again to get me to face what had happened, or maybe he had just been holding it in for a while for the sake of not completely ruining the holidays.

At breakfast, January first, he was playing with his croissant while he was already on his third cup of coffee.

I knew he was going to say something, but what exactly, I could not predict. I waited it out. I took my time reading the morning news on the touch screen built into the countertop. Duo sat across from me, on the other side of the cooking island, in his usual barstool, that creaked as he shifted indecisively.

"Some idiot blew off his own hand lighting firework," I said as I scanned the article. "He lives only a few blocks from here."

"I think we should talk about Valentine's Day," Duo announced promptly. He set his cup down on the counter top and folded his hands together, wringing his fingers.

I stilled momentarily, then took a deep breath and flicked my index finger across the screen to read the next article.

"Upcoming Valentine's Day," He clarified. "It would have been- Heero, would you please look at me?"

With a sigh I directed my attention to him.

"It's his birthday."

"It's not," I declared coldly.

He clenched his jaw. Not deterred by my icy demeanor, he continued: "I thought we could visit him. We could take a couple of balloons, some stuffed animals and flowers and decorate his grave."

I slammed my hand down on the granite surface of the counter. "It's not going to be a fucking birthday party, Duo!"

"I just think we should do something to commemorate the day!"

I rose from my seat, knocking the stool backwards. "I don't understand how this can be so easy for you!"

His eyes widened, hurt and shocked. "Easy? Easy?! You think this is easy for me?"

"It sure looks like it is! Putting up pictures of him, talking about him, now you want to throw him a fucking birthday party at the cemetery?! It doesn't even seem to faze you!"

"Fuck you! Fuck! You! This has been just as hard on me as it has been on you and you haven't been making things any easier for me!" He seethed. "What? You think I loved him less because I didn't turn myself into a machine?"

"No!"

"Good."

"No! I think you loved him less because he wasn't even your real son!"

Duo reeled back. His face turned white. He didn't say anything, that scared me, but it was easier to hold onto the anger than deal with any of the other emotions that threatened.

"I wish you would just stop talking about it!" I screamed. "You don't even understand! You weren't even there!"

"That was not my fault!" He pointed an angry finger at me. "You were the one who didn't even try to contact me other than one fucking email! I didn't have my phone, when and how was I supposed to check my email? You knew what hotel I was staying at. No, instead, Mark was the one who called the hotel. He had to search the internet for where the convention was and he called six different hotels asking for 'Duo Maxwell' before he managed to track me down! All you had to do was call Information and ask for my hotel's number." He chuckled darkly. "But now I get it. You didn't call me because you didn't think I needed to be included? Right? Because I wasn't the real father anyway. You would have just left me a fucking post-it on the refrigerator door or something! 'Hey, Duo, welcome home. By the way, your son is dead. But don't sweat is, he didn't have your DNA anyway'…" He made big, wild gestures.

"I was in shock!"

"I get that. But then don't blame me for not getting there until Mark finally took it upon himself to call me!"

"Sometimes I wish he hadn't! With you wanting to see him and insisting that we should name him. You made everything all the more difficult! You still make everything more difficult!"

"I'm trying to help. I want us to get better."

"You're making it worse!"

"Heero…"

"I want you to leave! I want you to leave me alone! Everything is ruined! It's all your fault!"

He came around the kitchen island, getting closer to me.

I stepped back, keeping a distance. I knew that if he would hug me, which he was about to, I would only feel more pain in my chest. "Don't touch me! I don't ever want you to touch me again! I don't love you anymore." I didn't mean that, but in the moment, I couldn't tell. The pain and sadness was so overpowering and all I knew was that it got worse whenever he tried to get close to me, to comfort me. I didn't deserve to be comforted and the last thing I needed was to feel his pain as well.

"Do you really want me to leave?" He asked quietly.

My stone cold answer was: "Yes."

He did. He left the house in his slippers, checkered pajama bottoms and black t-shirt.

For a brief moment I was relieved and I could breathe again, but then the guilt of all the horrible things I had said to him hit me and I only felt worse. I hurried to the front door, but the sedan was already gone.

That day I went up to the nursery for the first time in nearly a year. It was still in ruins, like the rest of my life. All I had left was Duo, but I was doing a stellar job at chasing him off. I picked a baby blue bunny up from the floor and ran my finger along the torn seam on the top of his head where his right ear used to be attached. I patted the dust off him and took him with me to the bedroom, laying down in bed with him.

For the first time in a long time, I allowed myself to feel.

When Duo came back two days later we were both apologetic. I said that I was sorry for the things I said, that I didn't mean them. Then he said he was sorry too, he had made a mistake; he had slept with Hilde.

After driving around aimlessly for hours, he would later tell me, he got himself a room at a roadside motel. In the middle of the night, after being alone with his own thoughts for too long, he called Hilde. She used to be his best friend, he had hoped she could offer him words that would comfort him, words I had been denying him. That everything would be okay and that he was only trying to do the right thing.

Hilde had little to say over the phone, she mostly listened as he cried and told her he worried our relationship was over. He told her he didn't know what to do anymore, he felt he had tried everything, but that I was just pushing him away. She asked him where he was staying and he gave her the name of the motel. The conversation ended soon after that.

Midway through the next day, there was a knock on his door. He answered to find Hilde. She had moved to earth, to Washington DC, the year before that, she had been sick of the scrapyard, she needed a change. She had moved to earth and attended university. She studied something to do with geology and climate change.

They talked. She got out and got them take out dinner, bottles of strong liquor and a pair of sweatpants and clean shirts for him.

That night they slept together.

Duo offered no excuses, he wouldn't attempt to belittle his mistake. All he said was that it happened for all the wrong reasons and that he wished he had never let it happen.

Three months later the phone rang.

* * *

**AC 206**

I eased back from the embrace and offered Duo my bravest smile. "Let's go. Your son is waiting to meet you."

First we stopped by one of the airport's gift shops – we were already late, we couldn't show up empty handed as well – and Duo picked out a blue bunny that made my heart ache. He didn't know that when we had finally thrown away all the broken stuff in the nursery, I had hid the blue bunny as a single keepsake. He had probably forgotten he had ever gotten Leander a blue bunny too.

He held the stuffed animal tightly to his chest as we made our way through the crowd to find a taxi to take us to the hospital. When Duo yelled at a young couple as they got into a cab right in front of us, they probably thought he was crazy, which is why they offered us to take the taxi instead.

I had never been to Washington DC before, so I occupied myself with the sights as we crossed through the expansive city to the right one of fifteen hospitals.

The vehicle jolted to a stop at the bottom of the concrete steps leading up to the solemn building.

We had nothing with us but the blue bunny, having left the monstrous mint green car with all our luggage in a parking structure in Louisville. Luckily I had my wallet stuffed in the back pocket of my jeans. I overpaid the cabbie and we apprehensively got out of the car.

The steps were as wide as the front of the building and I counted them to the door that read "Visitor's entry".

I'm not visiting, I realized, I'm intruding. Still, I followed my husband as he climbed the stairs with slow, heavy steps. I was ready to follow him anywhere, as I always had been, even though I knew I wouldn't be welcome. Even though I knew it would cause me more pain. Where that would lead me, I did not know, but it started to dawn on me it was no place I should want to get to. A place where I would have to share Duo, whom I had grown overly dependent of, with two other people, who, arguably, had more claim to him than I did. I was unconvinced I would be able to handle that. I feared becoming jealous and more needy and unjust in my desire to have Duo all to myself and not have to share him with people that caused me pain.

I stopped on the fourth step, a little less than halfway up to the door. Duo didn't realize I had stopped following him until he was at the door and turned around.

"Heero?" He walked back down to me, his expression was one of fear and concern.

"You should go," I said decisively. "But I'm not coming with you."

He paused on the sixth step. "I want you with me."

I nodded. "I know. But I'm not coming. You have to do this alone."

Duo swallowed. He let it sink in for a moment and then he agreed. "Okay. I understand. I'm sure there is a cafeteria or something in there, I won't keep you waiting too long."

"No, Duo, you don't understand. You have to do this alone," I emphasized. "And there is something I have to do by myself as well."

Confused, he stepped down to the fifth step. "What do you mean?"

I took a deep breath. My knees were quivering but I knew I had to do this. "You are going to go in there and you are going to meet your son. You are going to hold him and you are going to love him and you are going to be a wonderful father to him. I can't watch that."

The corners of his mouth twitched downward. "Heero, I am nothing without you. I can't do anything without you."

"Me neither. And that's the problem. Sit down," I said, as I took heed of the fact he was nearly collapsing in on himself, weighed by exhaustion, stress and fright.

He did and I crouched before him.

"I had bad things in me. Within me there was an uncompromising soldier, a ruthless killer, a selfish survivalist. You took those bad things out of me. You cleansed me of my past. The thing is, I never put anything back inside other than my love for you. I never became my own person, only your partner…" I looked at him meaningfully and when I saw the worry on his face I assured him: "That's not your fault. That wasn't your job. It was my job to make myself a complete person, but I neglected that. I was just content being with you." I placed my hand on his knees. "Now, I've come to realize that I need you to complete me. That was fine when everything was perfect, when I had you all to myself, to make me feel whole. But things aren't perfect anymore." I chuckled bitterly. "Far from it, in fact. This baby is here, your baby, and I have to share you with him and with Hilde. That thought made me realize how much I need you and how lost I'd be without you. How incomplete."

He looked at me with big, saddened eyes. He knew where this was going.

"I've never been independent. I've always counted on others to shape my life and to complete me. After everything that happened, I don't think being that dependent of someone else is healthy, not even when I love that person as much as I love you… When the war ended I set out to find myself. Instead, I found you," I smiled sadly and looked away pensively. "I let myself be overwhelmed by my love for you because it was wonderful and once it started, it was easy. Maybe if I had taken my time to get stronger on my own, I would have been able to handle this situation better, but right now I feel that going in there with you," I nodded at the hospital, "Will only hurt me – and us – more. I fear that if I go in there crippled, with you as my crutch, as you have always been, I'll never find the strength to rebuild our relationship. And you don't need a dead weight around your shoulders as a new father."

I rested my forehead against his. "I owe so much to you. You've made me feel happy and loved. You gave me a clean slate. But all I ever wrote on it was "I love you". I need to be on my own for a while and write some more. I need to be more than merely a half of a whole. Do you understand?" I felt a tear run down my cheek. I had tried to keep my emotions in check, because I thought it would make it easier, but as I started to cry I realized it was alright, I had to experience this pain. The road to recovery should not include shutting out my feelings, that would mean going backwards, I didn't want to go backwards. I had to go forwards, with the tools and the fresh start Duo had given me.

Reluctantly he nodded. He genuinely understood, but he knew what agreeing with me would mean, that I would be leaving.

"I want to be strong. I want to just love you, not need you."

In his eyes I could see that he started to realize he was equally dependent of me and I hoped that with that realization came the same epiphany that I had had; that it wasn't a healthy way to live, nor to love. I hoped that would dawn on him, I thought it could give him peace. It gave me a sense of peace.

"So what happens now?" He asked between sobs.

I felt horrible about making him so distraught, especially on a day that was always supposed to be joyous, regardless of anything. "You are going to go in there and you are going to hold your son and tell him that you love him…and you will give Hilde a kiss on her forehead and tell her that you will always be there for her. Because that is what they need of you. And you can give them that, you are strong enough."

He chuckled bitterly. "I'm not so sure."

I smiled and leaned in for a soft kiss. It was gentle and brief. For the first time, in a long time, I felt close to him again. Strange, since I was saying goodbye.

"Where are you going?"

"I don't know yet. Anywhere. Everywhere." I shrugged, I hadn't really thought this through too well, I was just suddenly overwhelmed with the feeling that I had to do it. I had to go with that feeling. It was a feeling I knew from a long time ago. A similar feeling that urged me to leave Hendrik; a sudden awareness that there was more, that I could – and should – be more. But unlike with Hendrik I had every intention of coming back. "But I'm coming back."

He looked up at me, after staring lengthily at the concrete steps.

"I'm going to keep this," I held up my hand to show him my wedding ring. "And I hope you'll keep yours, but you don't have to. I don't expect you to wait for me."

"I'll wait for you," He stated definitively.

I didn't say anything. I kissed him instead. The struggle to hold back desperate sobs was difficult. But I had to be strong now, that was the whole point. It would be so easy to fall into his arms and let him envelop me, but it wouldn't be right. As a new father, Duo's arms would be far too busy to tend to me as much as I had grown to need him to. Moreover, Duo was an imperfect person, he had proven to be as much, while that was perfectly fine, I mustn't rely on him to be my everything, it was neither safe nor fair, to me as well as to him.

I placed my hands on his shoulders and looked him deep in his eyes. "Go," I said and I nodded towards the entry of the hospital. Knowing what was waiting for him, I shouldn't keep him any longer, besides, dragging out the goodbye was a terrible hardship.

He shook his head. "No. No. I am not going to be the one who walks away. I accept your decision, I see that you really feel you need to do this, that is why I am not stopping you, because I have no right to ask anything of you; to deny you what you need. But… I am not going to be the one who walks away."

"Okay," I nodded with understanding and straightened up. With a quivering lower lip I stared down at him. Worry gripped strongly at my heart at the sight of his brokenhearted expression and his hopeless, slumped figure. I felt like I was being selfish, like I was leaving him when he conceivably needed me most. But I couldn't stay, it would be the end of us. It was better for me to leave and leave us both brokenhearted, than for me to stay and let us both wither away until neither of us had the strength to let the other lean on him and we would resent each other. It would be better to miss each other than to resent each other. "Okay," I repeated, more to convince myself than anything else. "I'm going." I leaned down to kiss him goodbye but Duo turned his head away.

"No. No goodbyes. You said you would come back, right?"

"Yes," I assured him, although I had no assurances that our relationship would work out once I did. But at least there would be hope.

"Then kiss me when you get back. Kiss me hello."

"Okay," I agreed with breaking voice. Before I could change my mind I pivoted on my heels and started down the steps. I never looked back, I was adamant about that. The next time I would be seeing him, I would be walking towards him.

* * *


	10. Interlude

**Loneliest Road**

 

**Interlude**

 

__

 

 

 

 

 

I fidgeted with the sheets. I didn't think I would have the energy left to be nervous after the ordeal of child birth that my body went through, but there I was, plucking at the seams, wrapping the fabric around my fingers and straightening the sheets over my body.

My body. I had hoped I would recognize it again after the birth, but it still didn't look or feel like my own. It hit me that my body never again would be mine, it would always be devoted the child; my son. For the rest of my life I would have to sacrifice everything to him – even my very life if it came down to it. That thought scared me during the pregnancy, but now that he was born, it didn't scare me anymore. It gave me strength, in fact. I never felt as much like a warrior as I did now. But even warriors get nervous.

Duo should have been here by now, I thought to myself. I wondered if he had changed his mind, if he had made a U-turn and headed back home with Heero. I found myself hoping he had. He often spoke of it, but he was too kindhearted to actually leave me to do this on my own, even though the responsibility should be all mine, considering I had brought this upon myself. I had vengeful, nasty intentions when I sought out Duo in that motel room, finding him grief-stricken and in despair.

I thought I had gotten past my anger and my envy, I was convinced of it in fact, convinced until the phone rang and I heard Duo's vulnerable voice. Everything came rushing back to me, the memories of a life, I believed to be blissful, turned upside down one night when a slight figure appeared at the gate of the scrapyard that one, rainy night. I had watched in secret, peeking through the window of the office whenever I deemed it safe. I watched Duo, my boyfriend, be captivated by the mere sight of the former war-hero. I watched them kiss.

To my horror Duo came up to the office mere minutes later and while I had been ready to pretend I had never seen anything, he told me what had happened and then confessed that he had always loved Heero, never me. Heero! A cold machine disguised as an attractive young man who never offered Duo anything that the American needed: kindness, gentleness, intimacy, love. But still he loved him? I took Duo for a fool, a misguided fool.

The feelings washed away as time went by and we even became friends again and met up occasionally since I moved to Earth. But when he called my ego tapped me on my shoulder and whispered devilishly in my ear: This is your chance to show him he was wrong. I knew what I was doing when I brought him liquor, sat on the bed next to him, frequently offered him comfort through increasingly bold touches - starting on his shoulder, but ending high up on his thigh. Intoxicated, confused and needy he let me push him down to the bed and as I started to undress him, swatting away the hands that would sometimes come up and weakly make an attempt to stop me, the lie slipped out of me.

"Don't worry, I'm on the pill."

I knew the risk I was taking and I knew that wasn't what he was worried about when he halfheartedly tried to stop me, but I was determined to see my actions through.

It was not my intention to get pregnant, although in that moment I did think: If it happens, it was meant to be.

Prompted by nausea and irritability I took a pregnancy test a few weeks later. I felt many things, but not that it was 'meant to be'. When the dust settled all there was left was a feeling of utter fright and I finally had to contact Duo. When Heero answered the phone it felt like a brick dropping in my stomach. I didn't want to put Heero through it, I had made a mistake that I had come to deeply regret, but I needed Duo, only he could make me feel like everything would be alright. It was selfish of me to shatter his whole world for me to gain that feeling of security, especially considering what he and Heero had been through; a tragedy that I – much to my shame – had abused!

Still, I was alone – lonely – and scared and confused, I needed Duo. That desire was more powerful than my desire not to be the bad guy in their tragic love story. How was I supposed to go through it alone? I hadn't a clue. I justified my intrusion into their life with the angry memory that Heero had done something similar to me.

During the pregnancy my hormonally unbalanced mind played tricks on me. I imaged what it would be like if Duo would be mine again, wholly mine. I indulged in those fantasies, they were a rare comfort in stressful times. I pictured us as the perfect little family. It wasn't until recently that I realized just how much I had been deceiving myself with those naïve, idyllic imaginations. Duo could never be wholly mine again, for starters he had never been wholly mine to begin with, but, most importantly, I finally recognized how deeply he was bound to Heero. He loved Heero, more than he ever loved me, even more than he dutifully pretended to love me. We would never be a perfect family. He would always miss him, he would never be fully content with me. He would never be bound to me like he was bound to Heero.

That realization only sunk in a few days ago. I could hear his voice getting weaker over the phone as he and Heero came nearer to DC. In a whisper he confided to me, barely coherent as he quickly burst out in sobs: "Heero can't do it. He's going to leave me". I was destroying them and as a result I was destroying Duo. I didn't want to break him, I truly still loved him. I also didn't want to look upon the pieces of him afterwards, every single day. And I thought of the child, what would it be like for a child to watch his father figure be damaged beyond repair and how would that child would look at his mother, knowing she was the one who wrecked him.

Still, I had been scared, so scared to be alone. I kept playing my game, shamefully, letting him come closer and closer even though I realized he was losing bits of himself along the way. I didn't give him time to go back and collect himself, because I needed him. I was so scared!

Then the labor came, too soon. I was supposed to be induced, it would be more controlled and safer, given my family history. Luckily a neighbor, who is also a friend, managed to get me to the hospital in time and the doctors handled the minor complications expertly. When I first held my son, directly after giving birth to him – a display of physical power I never thought I was capable of – I wasn't scared anymore. I could do this. It hit me like a lightning bolt. I could do this.

I didn't need Duo.

A few minutes ago they took my boy away, so I could get some rest, but there was no rest to be found for me. If I didn't need him, then why would I still put him through this? Maybe the epiphany came too late, but I had to try to keep Duo from sacrificing his life with Heero, because of a sense of duty for this child I told him was his.

Maybe I was just being selfish again, because I couldn't bear the guilt of ruining them like this. But the decision was made.

I released the sheets momentarily to wipe a tear that clung to my eyelashes, threatening to spill.

Right at that very moment a figure appeared in the doorway, slumped and dark, a baby blue bunny clutched in his left hand that dangled at his side.

"Duo," I breathed and watched him apprehensively step into my private room. His eyes were red and puffy and I noted with a drop of my heart the absence of Heero.

His pained eyes scanned the room. He refrained himself from asking the obvious question and instead politely asked me how I was doing, approaching me with heavy footfalls.

"I'm fine. There were some minor complications, but everything went well… and fast," I remarked with a breathless chuckle.

"I'm sorry I couldn't make it on time."

"It's fine. It's actually… better this way. I needed some time to think."

His dark eyes looked at me suspiciously. Finally, he asked, rather demandingly: "Where is he?"

"Where is Heero?" I countered.

He didn't answer me for a long time, his gaze directed to the unremarkably scenery outside the window. "He had to go."

I knew what he meant, his face was more informative than his words. "Duo, I'm sorry."

"I want to see him. I want to see him right now!" He made big, angry gestures with the bunny in his hand, the soft ears of it flailing about.

"Duo, sit down, we have to talk."

More suspicion became evident on his otherwise distraught features. "Hilde, where is my son?"

"Duo, please-"

"Where is he?!"

"Duo-"

"I need to see him, right now! Why won't you let me see him?"

"Because he's not yours!" It burst out of me so abruptly and carelessly that it startled me almost as much as Duo.

For a long time he appeared to not be breathing. Then, finally, he hissed: "What?"

I started crying uncontrollably, barely able to talk. "I'm… so sorry! I- I- I made a… huge… mistake!" At the look in his eyes my heart shattered and my sobs became even more erratic and powerful.

He remained eerily calm. "He's not mine?"

I nodded pathetically. "A little while before I came to see you, I slept with someone else. We had been safe, there was no reason to assume it was his, not yours."

His gaze darted from side to side. "How can you even be sure he's not mine?"

"The real father is African-American. It shows," I explained hurriedly.

When Duo started to laugh darkly, he scared me.

"He's not mine." He sought purchase on the foot of the bed to keep his balance, the bunny was vibrating in his trembling, clenched fist. "This is the fifth time I was supposed to have a baby."

"I'm so sorry."

"Sorry? Really? You have unprotected sex with God knows how many men and when you get knocked up you just pick a name out of a hat and let him think that it's his? You let him turn his whole life upside down? You let him-" He paused, his gaze became distant, then his angry eyes focused on me anew and he yelled: "Do you have any idea what you've done?!"

"I'm so sorry."

"Stop saying that! I don't want your apologies, I want to know why! Why did you do this to me?!"

"I thought you would make an excellent father," I answered meekly, guiltily.

A heavy set nurse appeared in the doorway, her hands firmly planted on her hips. "What is going on here?" She turned to look at me. "Do you need me to call security, sweetie?"

"No," Duo said. "You don't. I'm leaving." He started to walk away when he realized something and turned back. "Here," He threw the bunny towards the bed, it landed against my leg. "Know that it cost me my entire life to get that thing to you." He stormed out.

The nurse carefully stepped into the room. Standing by my bed she placed a hand on my shoulder. "Don't you worry, sweetie. You are strong, you don't need a man like that. Some men just can't handle being a father, you're better off without those types of guys."

"He's not the father," I argued teary-eyed.

The nurse made a face. "Oh, sweetie, those eyes? That nose? That little tuft of chestnut hair? You aren't fooling me." She grabbed the box of tissues from the nightstand and handed me one before placing the box in my lap. "That boy of yours is going to grow up to look just like his father. You'd better be prepared for that, in case he's coming back. He's not blind, sweetie, if he ever sees him, he'll know."

"He's not coming back," I stated, wiping away the last tears I allowed myself to shed over him.

Eight years ago on a rainy night on L2 Duo came up to the office at the scrapyard, out of breath and he demanded to have the key to the front gate. I held it clutched in my sweaty palms as he explained, with a guilty, sorrowful expression, why he needed to open that gate, who he had to chase and why. I held onto that key desperately and never gave it to him, thinking that I could keep him that way, but Duo ended up leaving through the distant back gate that night.

I was finally able to give him the key – metaphorically speaking – I was finally able to let him go and accept that he needed to be with someone else, because he loved someone else more. Not because I had grown to love him less rather, because I had grown to love him more. He deserved to be with the one who made him happy. I hoped that by eliminating the burden of a child, Duo and Heero would be free to reunite, and one day have the child that they always wanted and always deserved; a child that would bring them together, not one that would break them apart. I knew being a father to my child would have brought him some joy, but it would always be tainted with the memory of his lost love. I really believed that by cutting him loose I gave him, my son and myself the best chance at happiness.

"Do you want me to bring your baby boy to your room?"

"Yes, please."

She smiled at me. "I'll be right back."

I nodded and watched her rotund figure leave.

It was better for my son to not be in the middle of the drama my mistake had brought upon us. I was going to be a strong, single mother, a person he could look up to, not a person he resented or pitied because she ruined his father's life and let herself be caught up in an illusion of a happy family.

"Here he is," The nurse announced gleefully as she gently rolled his cradle towards my bedside. "Oh, he is just perfect," She observed as she carefully lifted him and adjusted his blue blanket before handing him to me. "Have you thought of a name yet?"

I stared at his tiny features. The nurse was right, he would end up looking just like Duo. I could tell. "Yes," I answered. "His name is Maxwell. Maxwell Schbeicker."

* * *


	11. Epilogue

**Loneliest Road**

**Sequel/Epilogue**

_\- The journey doesn't end at the destination. -_

I dragged my suitcase through the Washington Dulles airport, it felt heavier than it should. It was only small – carry-on sized no less - and loaded with nothing but hastily packed clothes, a toothbrush and the charger of my phone, yet I had to pull at it like it was a dead weight of hefty stones. It was like the inanimate thing was somehow capable of being reluctant and fighting me the entire way; anchoring me, trying to get me to stay. I leaned my weight forward to keep the momentum going. I wasn't about to be stopped. I had made more progress than I ever had and I felt so resolute, finally willing myself to buy that ticket, that I refused to give up. I had come so far, at this point it seemed easier to keep heading forward, rather than cowardly shrinking back home.

A clear voice rang from the overhead speakers: "Flight 414 to San Francisco International Airport will now start boarding at gate twelve."

I followed the signs down a long hall to gate twelve. My heart was thudding, but I foolishly attributed that to the upcoming flight. It would be the first time for me, I had never even been beyond the city limits. There never seemed to be any reason to leave. My home was Washington DC and everything relevant to my life was practically around the corner. Following high school graduation I heedlessly sent application forms only to local colleges and universities and being accepted into the George Washington University I was the only one of my admittedly small group of friends who didn't spend his summer packing up his belongings and moving out into the world. The commute from my childhood home to the university grounds was as short as an hour, a time cut in half since my eighteenth birthday when my mother presented me with a car with a red bow on our driveway.

To say I lived in a small world, would be an understatement, but in this small world I felt safe. There was not the danger of uncertainty; of unanswered questions; of probing in the dark to find the boundaries separating right from wrong. Everything was a given, or so I was led to believe.

"Ticket and passport please?" Asked the flight attendant at the end of the line at gate twelve, with a monotonous but dutifully polite tone.

I did as requested and nodded my thanks when she pointed me down the tube connecting the building to the awaiting airplane. Right before I made that first step into the aircraft, another flight attendant looking at me expectantly, I was hit with an unnerving wealth of trepidation.

The flight attendant smiled reassuringly at me. "Don't be afraid of flying."

"I'm not. I'm afraid of crashing." Every single person that was within earshot of me threw me a disdainful look over their shoulder. Apparently the C-word was taboo in the cramped space of airplanes, even though I was relatively sure it crossed everyone's mind upon boarding. I focused my attention on the pretty flight attendant who was suddenly scrutinizing me. With my head ducked between my shoulders I walked past her. I lifted my suitcase into the overhead bin and took my seat – a window seat.

Imagine my surprise when, on my eighteenth birthday, still experiencing the exhilaration of having my own car, my mother told me that the man I believed to be my father was in fact not. In that moment my small world was turned upside down and I could no longer make any sense of it, it was so disorienting. Everything I knew, every given, every firm answer to questions regarding my identity, became foundations to incomprehensibly complicated and hurtful questions, the two most prominent ones being: "Why did my mother lie to me all my life?" And: "Who am I?"

For eighteen years my father was a man I knew quite well. All my life he had been a friend of my mother; the friendship a residue of what I was told was a brief romantic relationship that ended amicably not long before my mother discovered she was pregnant with me. I didn't see him very often, he took no significant part in raising me but I had always been satisfied with our relationship. He was kind and candid and took me on annual fishing trips and spent a summer weekend teaching me how to throw a curveball, a slider and a knuckleball before I would start little league that week. A few years back he finally married and had two more children – two girls I thought were my half-sisters.

When she said that it had all been a lie, fabricated to protect me, I felt foolish, cheated and angry, too much so to even think to ask who my real father was. That question was only piled on top of all the others a while later, once I had managed to compose myself.

When I was ready, she started: "Your father's name is Duo. Duo Maxwell."

I had to stop her there and go outside for some fresh air. I thought I was prepared, but the reality hit home, hard. I was named after a man I never even knew existed. Who was 'Maxwell'? Who was 'Duo Maxwell' and who was 'Maxwell Schbeicker'? I didn't know, but I figured I could find out more about the former through my mother, so I joined her anew at the kitchen table.

She finally told me the truth. Occasionally she had to pause her story to let out a few choked sobs.

She had met Duo during the war between earth and the colonies. Regarding their involvement in the war she only remarked that he played a pivotal role in bringing peace and that she had been blessed to have been able to help him achieve that. I wasn't too interested in that part of the story so I didn't ask her to elaborate on that vague statement. She continued telling that after spending the year apart between the war and the battle during Christmas of AC 196, he came to live with her on L2 and they worked at her uncle's scrapyard together. During this time the tentative romantic aspect of their friendship evolved and soon they were living together as a couple. I could tell the memory was heartbreaking for her, but at the time I didn't feel particularly sympathetic. Without warning Duo left one night, after a friend had shown up unannounced and unwelcome. I was shocked when she revealed Duo moved down to earth to be with his male friend, romantically. Learning that my biological father was homosexual had me reeling. I wasn't so small-minded to be unaccepting of homosexuality, but I wondered what repercussions that had for my sexual identity. Kids at school always used to poke fun at the children of same-sex couples.

I felt numb listening to her as she told me Duo and this other man – every time she said his name, 'Heero', she said it abhorrently – got married a few years later but she said their relationship started crumbling under the weight of a tragedy, of which she revealed no details. It was around that time that Duo reached out to her and she had come to soothe him and they ended up… conceiving me.

At that point in the story I stormed out angrily. This didn't sound like the kind of man I would want as my father, as it didn't sound like the kind of man I would want to grow up to be! He left my mother heartbroken for some guy that just showed up one night, and he couldn't even commit himself to him, to that 'Heero'; he ended up cheating on him! Wasn't this 'Heero' supposed to be more important to him than my mother? If he had the audacity to cheat on that guy, how worthless did he dare to evaluate my mother to be? He must have thought despicably little of her for him to leave her to fend for herself and for their newborn child!

My mother rushed after me, begging me to let her finish the story, but I quickened my stomping pace towards the car she had given me, desperate to get away. I was done. I didn't want to know more, there would only be more disappointment. She tugged at my arm, but I continued along stubbornly, unwilling to listen to more. Eventually she stopped in the middle of the street and yelled after me: "I told him you weren't his!"

I pivoted on my heels to stare at her. My expression was incredulous but my eyes already started welling up with tears.

"He never tried to be part of your life because I told him he wasn't the father." Recognizing my hurtful expression she started crying and pleading for forgiveness.

The pain in my chest was indescribable at being confronted with the fact that not only had my mother told me a horrible lie – presenting me with a fake father -, she had also told my real father a horrible lie. I lost all faith. Not only did I no longer know myself, nor knew my father, my mother also became a completely new person to me and I resented this new her. I felt hopelessly lost.

That day I applied for a dorm room at the University campus and I stayed with friends until I was assigned my own bunk bed a few weeks later.

I stared out the window at the clouds. So far the flight was uneventful, I just had turn up the volume of my earphones as the guy next to me was blasting his music obnoxiously loud.

My small world was quickly expanding. That was frightening. There was so much uncharted territory now; so many ways to get lost.

Initially I wasn't going to do anything with the startling information she had given me. I had lived all my life without this Duo-person. I didn't need him. But after a year of muddling around the uneasiness remained and even after starting therapy it seemed like I had meet him, if only just once, because nothing else seemed to be helping me through my struggles and confronting myself with him – and confronting him with me – was the only viable option left that I hadn't tried.

During that year the contact with my mother had been strained. I didn't like talking to her about Duo and the whole situation but I also couldn't stand talking about mundane stuff, pretending like nothing had changed. That left us with many awkward silences. A few weeks before my nineteenth birthday I declared I intended to meet him and my birthday present that year was an undated ticket to San Francisco. My mother gave me the information I needed to find him, apparently she was still in contact with some old mutual friends and he still lived in the same house as when she last saw him. She wanted to show me a picture of him, but I refused. She offered to come with me to see him, but that I refused even more vehemently. This was something I had to do by myself.

The suitcase that was in the overhead bin had been in various stages of packed and unpacked in the following weeks while I mustered up the courage to go through with my plan. The farthest I had come before was driving to the airport but making a U-turn at the very first possibility.

I was startled by a hand waving in front of my face. I plucked my earphones out and focused my attention on the flight attendant, giving her a somewhat baffled expression after being pulled from my deep musings.

"Please put your seat in the upright position and fasten your seatbelt. We will be landing in San Francisco shortly."

I nodded dumbly, completely caught off guard by how fast the time had gone by. I turned to look out the window and surely enough we started to descend.

Soon my feet were safely planted on solid ground again but I still feared this trip could turn out to be a total disaster. The gravity in California was even stronger, my suitcase felt heavier still as I dragged it along to find a taxi. I produced a wrinkled piece of paper from the pocket of my jeans and read aloud the address I had jotted down. Without a word the cabbie drove me to my destination.

It was midday and it was sunny and warm for the time of year. At almost seventy degrees Fahrenheit, with people wearing only light jackets if any, the Christmas decorations looked awfully out of place.

The cab pulled into a fancy suburban neighborhood. I wasn't brought up poor, not in the least, but the houses on that particular street appeared enormous to me. The vehicle rolled to a stop and the driver pointed to a white plastered villa in Mexican style.

"That's it," He stated dryly, completely unaware of how daunting that moment was for me.

I paid him and got out apprehensively. Of course I contemplated just telling him to take me back to the airport, but I was resolute, I was not going to be a coward. Not again at least. Looking down at myself in dismay I made an attempt to straighten my clothing. Maybe I should have worn something more presentable than faded jeans and a simple T-shirt with an open button-up shirt on top. But what are you supposed to wear when you are about to meet your father for the first time? Most people never have to worry about this, most are in their birthday suit or wrapped in a baby blue or baby pink towel when they first meet their dad, so there wasn't exactly an 'How-to-for-dummies' book written about it. I wasn't really a fancy-clothes kind of guy anyway. At official school functions it was mandatory to wear neat slacks and a button-up shirt – preferably with jacket and tie – but I felt most like myself and therefore more comfortable, in something cheap and casual.

I had been standing on the sidewalk for so long it must have been suspicious. Before someone would take notice of me and have a police patrol car roll by to see what the ratty kid with the dingy suitcase was doing in the neighborhood I took a deep breath and walked up the path to the double front door. I admired the intricate carving in the wood, only to realize I was stalling. Another deep breath and then I was ready to ring the doorbell.

Immediately following the chime that echoed through the house was a dog barking excitedly and I could see the black silhouette of the animal as it rushed up to the frosted glass window by the door.

The dog was probably going to be the only one in the household happy to see me.

I was sick with nerves.

Beyond the door someone ordered in a strict but controlled voice: "Back!" Then I heard the door being unlocked.

The breath I had been holding came out trembling.

The door was opened wide to reveal a middle-aged man. My heart was pounding as I studied him. He looked to be in his early forties. He was shorter than me, he had a slim, lithe figure dressed in light jeans and a navy blue button-up. His hair was chocolate brown – a hint of grey at the temples – and brushed back out of his face. His face was one of tanned, exotic features, with big, cobalt blue eyes. He was not my father, I instantly knew, not only because this man was obviously of Asian heritage but also because my mother had assured me I looked exactly like my father and I looked nothing like this man. I felt a little uncomfortable and unsure of myself realizing that clearly the person in front of me was Heero, the man – man! – my father had left my mother for.

At first his deep blue eyes widened with shock as his gaze fell on me, then a calm acceptance washed over him and he took his time studying my face the way I did his.

"Hi," I started sheepishly. "I'm Maxwell Schbeicker."

A small, somewhat sad smile appeared on his lips. In a surprisingly deep and vibrating voice he said: "Yes. Yes, you are."

"I'm looking for Duo."

He nodded and stepped aside, inviting me inside with a gesture of his arm. "Come in."

Apprehensively I stepped inside, pulling my suitcase over the threshold and setting it by the door that he closed behind me. He took the time to formally introduce himself as Heero - stating no last name - and his palm felt as warm and sweaty as my own as we shook hands. He asked to take my coat from me so I shook it off my shoulders and spotted the black dog waiting obediently in the door opening to the living room.

Heero ordered the dog to go to his mat and then offered me to take a seat on the couch and asked if I wanted something to drink.

I wasn't thirsty but I could use a moment by myself to regain my composure and maybe some cool water would calm my nerves. "Thank you. Water, please."

He nodded and left. His movements were a little jittery, obviously he knew why I was there. I wondered exactly how much I looked like my biological father for him to be able to recognize me. I hadn't called in advance to announce I was coming. As far as I knew Duo and Heero didn't know Duo was my real father.

While Heero was in the kitchen I wandered around the living room. It was a large space decorated in a homey, contemporary style, with mostly earthy tones. I immediately took notice of the piano in the corner. But the big fireplace was the focal point of the room and I was drawn to it. There were pictures on the mantelpiece, but none of Duo or Heero. There were pictures of three children, two boys and a girl, at various ages; in-utero images, baby-pictures, candids on holidays, and two graduation portraits and action-photos during sporting events of the two young men. I studied what appeared to be the most recent pictures more closely. The African-American girl was still young, there were no pictures of her beyond about the age of five. The two young men looked to be my age. There was a picture of them together, their arms slung around each other. They were both tall, but other than that they were polar opposites. One was African-American, with a muscular, imposing physique, a square jaw, rounded features, black eyes and a shaved head. The other was incredibly pale skinned, his body more slender and elongated, he had sharp, delicate features including an angular jaw, ice blue eyes and platinum blond hair that loosely framed his face.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," Heero apologized upon re-entry.

I couldn't blame him. If he did realize who I was and why I had come to his house, he had every right to need a moment for himself. The encounter must be quite nerve-wrecking for him also. "Are these… your kids?" I barely stopped myself short of asking if they were my siblings. I wasn't ready for that much reality yet.

"Yes," The shorter man looked at the collection of picture frames proudly. "The little girl is Sala, she is four. She is at preschool right now. Sunnery and Annadal are our sons. They are a little older than you. They are already off to college. Actually, Sunnery recently graduated." He let out a breathy chuckle, like he was still getting used to the idea.

I took a sip of water to ease my dry throat. Looking into my glass I inquired: "You know who I am, don't you?"

He offered me a conflicted smile. "Yes."

"I'm sorry to spring this on you."

"You have nothing to apologize for," Heero assured me genuinely.

"Is… Is Duo here?"

"He's at work, but I'll call him and ask him to come home."

I shook my head. "I shouldn't have showed up like this. I should have called beforehand."

"It's fine. Take a seat, try to relax. I'll make a few calls." He smiled kindly and then left the room.

I dropped down onto the couch. The sound drew the attention of the dog who, in the absence of his master, could not resist leaving his mat and coming over to investigate the guest. He curiously sniffed at me, his tail softly going back and forth. I reached out and petted him on the top of his head and a smile formed when he rested his chin on my knee and enjoyed the attention with heavily lidded eyes. In the meantime I inadvertently eavesdropped on Heero's call.

"Hey honey…"

I stiffened. It was still weird to imagine that my biological father was married to this man.

"Could you please come home a little early today? … No, nothing is wrong… Duo, nothing is wrong. There is someone here to see you. … No, I'm not going to send him to the garage. Just get back here as soon as you can. … I love you too."

A few seconds later it became apparent Heero had made another call.

"Sunnery, hi. … Could you pick up your sister from preschool today? I have a guest and I can't leave."

I heaved a sigh. After finding out that my pretend-father's daughters weren't my sisters, I never considered that I did actually have siblings. Sunnery, Annadal and Sala were obviously adopted, but regardless, Duo was their father, so they were my brothers and sister. It was an odd realization that made the matter all the more complicated. I suddenly felt selfish for invading their lives like this.

Heero came back and sat down across from me. He wiped his palms on his thighs, he was clearly anxious but his small smile seemed earnest. After a while he started hesitantly: "Earlier you asked if I knew about you. I forgot to ask if you knew about me."

I bit my lip and nodded. "Yes, I know about you. Not much but… I know you're… You're Duo's…" I fell silent, it was all so strange to me. Heero being married to Duo, what did that make him to me? My stepdad?

His expression was one of understanding.

"You're handling it quite well," I remarked with a nervous chuckle.

He smiled. "Growing older I've learned to accept things a little quicker. I've gotten more swift at recognizing that new and scary things aren't necessarily bad. I'll admit that if I had found out at the time that Hilde told Duo you were not his, I would have been relieved. But by the time I found out what she had told him, I was past my anger and I just felt sad for Duo."

"What do you mean?" I asked with a frown. "You weren't with Duo around the time I was born?"

"It was a difficult time. I needed to be with myself for a while. There were some things I had to figure out about myself."

I nodded, I could understand that. I was currently having a crisis that led me to embark on this quest by myself, to figure things out. "Where did you go?" I wondered matter-of-factly, like I was asking a friend which movie he would recommend.

"I traveled all around the world," Heero replied equally casually.

"Oh… Did it work?"

He chuckled. "I think so. I have things pretty much figured out now."

I nodded slowly and looked down at the dog. "What's his name?"

"Reynor."

"Reynor," I repeated, testing the name on my lips.

The dog barely responded to his name being said twice, distracted by my fingers massaging his head.

"Would you like me to show you the guest bedroom while we wait?"

I looked up at the older man and swallowed. "I- I'm not sure if I should stay here."

"I understand. But if it's not too weird for you, you are welcome to stay. I think it might be good. You came here to get to know your father, right?"

"Yeah… Okay," I decided on a whim and I followed him upstairs, picking up my suitcase along the way. It didn't feel all that heavy anymore, I took that as a sign. I curiously looked around as I trailed after Heero to the guest bedroom. The house was even bigger than it appeared to be from the front. The back of the house had a U-shape, in between the left and right wing of the building was a stone courtyard that the large window of the guest room looked out onto. The room was spacious, barely filled by the queen-sized bed and large dresser and tall closet. There was even a small seating area and a door to what I presumed to be the bathroom.

"You can take a moment for yourself if you want. Duo won't be here for at least a few minutes."

"Okay, thanks." I watched him politely retreat and close the door behind him. I worried that at any moment feelings of terrible fear would swarm me and I would be bolting out the door, but so far so good. I took a seat on the edge of the soft bed, my hands caressing the smooth silk of the sheets. As I had often done in the past year, I wondered what my life would have been like if my mother had told both Duo and I the truth of our connection. She claimed that she had lied to us both to protect us. She wanted Duo to have a chance to make things right with Heero and she didn't want me to ever feel abandoned by my father, so she convinced an old friend to play along – pretend to be my father. But we would never know if her lies changed our lives for the better. Had I really been better off with my fake-dad? Had Duo really been better off thinking that she had lied to him; essentially losing a child? Maybe it would have been better to have known the truth all along, although that did sound naïve. The 'what-ifs' were also never simple.

My entire body went rigid when I heard the front door open and Reynor started to bark excitedly. This is it, I thought, cold blood running through my veins – his blood. But then a deep voice called out:

"Dad?"

I was only slightly relieved to learn it was the son Heero had called to pick up the young daughter from preschool. They exchanged words in the hallway, but I could not discern what they were saying. With shaky knees and sweaty palms I quietly left the bedroom and treaded towards the top of the staircase. I looked over the bannister into the foyer, but they had already moved into the living room. I heard a young girl squealing with delight and calling out the dog's name repetitively as she was likely playing with him. When she quieted down I could hear mumbles of a soft-spoken conversation. Suspecting they were talking about me and irrationally irked by the idea, I boldly headed downstairs, making sure to walk with heavy footfalls so they knew I was coming.

My heart beat at a stressful pace when I rounded the corner and set one foot into the living room. I stopped dead in my tracks as I laid eyes on the tall young man – taller even than me – who stood in front of his adoptive father. Technically, he was my brother. That hit me like a ton of bricks.

The young man – Sunnery, Heero had made the call to Sunnery – turned slowly, unsuspectingly, to face me. His dark, almond shaped eyes widened in shock when he saw me standing in the doorway, his thick, muscular neck stiffened and his fists clenched at his sides.

Heero lay a gentle hand on his son's arm. "Sunnery, this is Maxwell."

Sunnery shot a confused look at his significantly shorter father.

The tense moment was interrupted by a young girl running up to me, chased by the dog that lay down playfully at her feet. Mid-play she was distracted by my presence. She looked up at me with big, gleeful eyes, completely unbeknownst to the awkwardness of the current situation.

"I'm Sala. Nice to meet cha!"

"H-Hello. I'm… Max." I shook the hand she abruptly extended out towards me.

"You look like my daddy."

"Uhhh…"

"Sunnery," Started Heero. "Why won't you take your sister out for a walk in the park with Reynor."

Sala already started clapping her hands enthusiastically and jumping up and down. "Walking the doggie! Walking the doggie!"

"Dad," Sunnery tried to argue but a single, steel look from those cobalt blue eyes and he took his sister's hand without a word, guiding her to the hallway, followed by the dog. As he walked by me he eyed me with distrust.

Heero heaved a deep sigh when the front door fell shut after Sunnery had helped Sala into her jacket and had leashed Reynor. "Sorry about that. I didn't want to tell him anything yet, not before you've had a chance to talk to Duo. But you look so much like him, clearly he suspects what is going on."

"I shouldn't have come downstairs," I said apologetically. "I don't know what I was thinking."

"Don't worry. I'm glad you came downstairs, I take it it means you wanted to meet them?"

"Yeah."

"Well, that's good. I just wanted to tell the kids with Duo. This is going to be quite a shock for them."

I nodded, feeling foolish for selfishly rushing in. "So… There's quite a bit of an age-gap between your sons and your daughter…" I remarked in an attempt to fill the silence. I knew bringing up his kids would be a good way to get Heero talking, anytime someone asked my mom about me they were hit with a lengthy monologue about how amazing her son is.

"Yes, Sunnery is twenty-two, he was six years old when we adopted him. When his birthmother had another child, Sala, the adoption agency contacted us. Since Sala and Sunnery are half-brother and -sister they thought it would be good for them to end up in the same family." He smiled, he probably couldn't help it. "It was a bit of an adjustment, taking care of a newborn baby. Annadal was four when he came to us, he's one year older than you. But we are blessed to have Sala part of our family as well, although it doesn't matter that she shares a birthmother with Sunnery, he is as much her brother as he is Annadal's."

"Does Sunnery still live here?"

Heero shook his head. "He moved out when he went to college. He graduated this year and now he has a small studio apartment downtown."

"And your other son?"

"Annadal is a student at Yale university, so he lives far away unfortunately. Even further away this year, he went to study in Barcelona this year as part of an exchange program. But he's flying home for Christmas."

I nodded. Holidays were never special to me. It was always just me and my mother, my fake-dad made no appearances on Christmas or Thanksgiving, obviously because he preferred to spend the time with his real family. My mother didn't have any friends outside of work and her family lived on L2 – more real family that I had never met – so it was only ever just the two of us at the dinner table. That was never particularly festive, it was like any other dinner, really.

"How's-" He sighed and gave me an apologetic look, wordlessly communicating that he had trouble keeping up the conversation. "How's your mother?"

"Do you really want to know?" I shot back a little challengingly.

"Of course."

"You don't hate her?" I could argue he had every reason to.

"No," He answered genuinely, appearing somewhat surprised at the question.

"Well, then… she's fine."

Heero looked at me pensively. "How are things between you and your mom, since you found out?"

I stared at him, my eyes slowly narrowing. I was getting angry, though not necessarily at him. "I don't think it's any of your business."

"You're right." He didn't apologize and I supposed he had no reason to. I was the one showing up on his doorstep unannounced, prying into his life. To busy himself he started organizing the living room, clearing away toys and books.

"Do you think he will hate her?" I blurted.

Heero paused and looked at me over his shoulder, stuffed animal in one hand, serious-looking book in the other. "What?"

"Do you think… Duo will hate my mother? When he finds out about… me?"

He smiled at me, making it hard for me to dislike him out of principle. "Duo hates very few people."

I waited for him to elaborate but when he continued cleaning up I realized that had been it and it hadn't been much of an answer. It dawned on me that Duo – my father – already hated my mother. For the past nineteen years she has been the woman who nearly ripped apart his relationship by 'pretending' to be pregnant with his child. I couldn't predict if me turning out to be his after all would give him the opportunity to reconcile with her, or if he would only hate her all the more and perhaps me by extension.

I blinked quizzically at Heero when I noticed he had been staring at me with an odd look.

He shook his head and looked away.

It made me nervous. Just how much did I look like him? If him and I were so similar in appearances, I could only anxiously guess how alike we would be in every other respect. That frightened me. In a way I started to feel like I was meeting myself for the first time. Or like I was about to look into my own future.

My entire body went rigid, painfully so, when the front door opened and a pleasant voice called out Heero's name and continued: "Is Sunny here? His car's in the driveway!"

The older man dropped the things he had been holding on the couch and rushed past me into the hallway, shooting me a sympathetic look, one that also seemed to be asking me to give them a minute.

I loitered in a corner of the living room, my racing heart pumping hot blood into my face while my body shivered and goosebumps appeared on my bare forearms.

"Hey," Said the baritone voice warmly.

I could hear them exchange a quick kiss and my face felt hotter still.

"So… What was so urgent that I had to rush home, huh?" He asked with a teasing tone.

"Duo… please," Heero said seriously and it was like I could feel the atmosphere in the entire house shift.

"Alright," He – my father! – chuckled sheepishly. "What's with the face? You look so serious." Shock and surprise became him. "Did Sunny get into trouble?"

"He's fine. He's not here right now, I sent him to the park with Sala. Someone is here to meet you. It's important."

"Okay..."

I heard them make their first steps towards the door opening to the living room and my breath hitched.

"Just… stay calm, okay?" Were Heero's final words before the two of them rounded the corner and stepped into view.

I stared at the tall man that walked in, exactly my height. His well-built frame was dressed in dark jeans and a grey button –up with a company logo on the chest. For a moment he didn't see me and I got the chance to study his face before horror would be written all over it. He had a kind, approachable face, but masculine and handsome nonetheless. I stared at a chiseled jaw, high cheekbones, straight nose and expressive eyes, all uncannily like my own. His vibrantly colored chestnut hair was pulled back into a short ponytail. Our hair was probably the same length – an interesting choice – although mine was raven black and I always wore half of it up in a loose bun and the rest loose along my neck.

He was smiling, his mouth was different from mine, looking back over his shoulder at his husband before following Heero's pointed gaze through to living room towards me. His eyes found me, cowering in the corner, and he stopped dead in his tracks. He knew instantly and how could he not? I could see for myself how much we looked alike, the genetic connection was undeniable. The smile faded from his lips, he left his mouth hanging open slightly, absolutely in shock. The frown of his eyebrows continued to deepen as he studied me with an appropriate mixture of hurt and horror. His eyes started to glisten as they welled up with tears. His expression became downright offended and heartbroken.

Heero touched his arm, causing him to whip his head around and look at him incredulously. "Duo," He started gently. "This is Maxwell. Maxwell Schbeicker."

The first thing I said was, with my voice so hoarse it was unrecognizable: "I'm sorry."

"Hilde…?" Was all he could manage.

I nodded.

"I didn't know. I swear I didn't know."

"I know. She lied to you. She lied to both of us."

He slowly approached me and I took a step back, apprehensive. When he was only a few steps away from me he halted and covered his slack mouth with his big hand. "I don't know what to say," He admitted, it came out all mumbled from behind his palm.

I cast my gaze down at my worn shoes. "Me neither."

"You look so much like me," He stated dumbly. He looked over his shoulder at his husband. "He looks so much like me."

Heero and I both nodded.

"I need to sit down," Duo remarked, a little out of breath and with slow, absentminded movements he walked over to the sitting area to take a seat on the couch.

Heero gestured for me to take a seat as well and I did. The Asian man left briefly and returned with three glasses of cool water.

As we just sat there, alternating staring at each other with staring into thin air, I started to become aware of the sound of a clock on the piano, its soft ticks becoming deafening in the silence.

I had been imagining meeting my biological father for over a year, but in spite of that I was completely unprepared; didn't know how to act. It was overwhelmingly new and scary, in the face of which all my usual wit abandoned me. I focused my gaze on Duo's calloused hands that made a rough sound when he rubbed them together nervously.

"When did you find out?" His sudden question startled me.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "My mom told me on my eighteenth birthday. Last year." I awkwardly blurted: "She bought me a car but then she came with the real surprise: 'Greg isn't your dad!'…" I bit my lip, feeling foolish for acting so silly, as if that could alleviate the tension.

"Greg?"

I shrugged. "Just a guy my mom's been friends with for a long time. She talked him into pretending to be my father and showing up a couple of Saturdays a year so I felt like I had a dad, like all the other kids."

Duo's expression was forlorn. The silence returned. The clock seemed louder than ever.

I shot a look at Heero, to my side, when the silence stretched on. For whatever reason I looked to him for support. He returned the look with uncertain eyes, although he did make an effort to calm the turmoil within them in an attempt to reassure me.

The three of us jumped at the sound of the door opening. The young girl, Sala, came rushing in, followed by the dog that was panting around a stick that was almost too big to fit through the doorway.

"Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!" She called out and she propelled herself into Duo's lap.

The man momentarily forgot his troubles and took his daughter into his arms, kissing her on her forehead. The tension rushed back into the space when the tall, dark and handsome son Sunnery walked in, his unforgiving glare affixed to me.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't idle outside any longer," The young man explained in response to Heero's stare, as he hadn't been expected to return so soon. "What is going on?!" He demanded to know.

Heero jumped up from his seat and reached out his arms to take his daughter from his spouse. "I'll take her upstairs."

Sunnery leaned down to look his short father into his eyes. "Tell me. Is he…?"

Heero walked by him with his head bowed, carrying Sala upstairs.

Sunnery turned his attention to his other father. "Dad, what is going on?"

"Sunnery, please," Duo urged with soft voice. "Give us a moment. Go home, we will explain things later."

The young man rapidly became seething angry. I shrank in my seat as he moved his big, imposing frame closer to us to confront his father. "No! I will not accept that! Tell me now!" His large fists were clenched at his sides and the muscles in his thick arms were tense and trembling.

Duo shot up from his seat. He was a little shorter than his son, but his expression was fierce and intimidating. "I wouldn't know what to tell you!"

"The truth!" Sunnery spat. "You said you only cheated that one time! You promised you only cheated one time!"

"I did!"

I cringed at their raised voices, sounding so threatening; two alpha males clashing. I wished I could become invisible, or at least sneak out unnoticed, but Sunnery was blocking the path between the coffee table and the lounge chairs that was my only escape.

"Oh, come on! Are you telling me this-" Sunnery gestured at me and I glared up at him at the insult, "- is from nineteen years ago?!"

"It is!"

"I am," I affirmed, far more meekly than I had intended and would later claim.

Sunnery seemed to deflate with a single, mighty sigh. He cocked his head to look down at me with a frown. "You're nineteen?"

I nodded hurriedly.

"Oh." He looked back up at his father, his expression abundantly apologetic. "He looks a lot younger… I thought…"

"We'll talk about this later," Said Duo, his tone less angry but still strict.

Sunnery ducked his head between his shoulders. "I'm sorry."

"What was that all about?" Heero asked when he came back into the living room, immediately both arguing men turned to face him, as if a drill-sergeant had walked in. It seemed they stopped just short of saluting him.

"Our son assumed that I have a string of illegitimate children from several indiscretions," Spat the chestnut-haired man.

Their son argued: "He doesn't look nineteen…" His black eyes were sorrowful.

I cast a sideway glance at Duo, who slumped back into his seat. He buried his face in his hands. I looked away, self-conscious, when I noticed his shoulders started to shake with quiet sobs.

"Duo," Breathed his spouse empathetically and he walked around the coffee table to sit down next to him, laying a gentle hand on his back.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Duo mumbled into his hands.

Heero shook his head. "You don't have to apologize."

"Of course I do!" He looked at his husband with pained eyes. "I'm sorry for putting you through this after all these years," He directed his gaze at his son, "I'm sorry for yelling at you, when I totally deserved that accusation after what I did to Heero back then…" Finally, he turned to look at me. "And I'm sorry for not realizing Hilde was lying to me."

"You couldn't have known," I said with a shrug. "I didn't know."

He leaned forward again and exhaled shakily.

"Maybe we should all just rest a little bit," The Asian man suggested, "Let all this information sink in. We can talk later."

We all agreed to this and we went our separate ways. Sunnery went home after hugging Heero goodbye in the hallway. Heero and Duo headed for the master bedroom and I took shelter in the guest bedroom.

I felt like I was watching a movie, rather than being part of anything. I felt distant and detached. In the back of my mind regret started to gnaw, like maybe I should have never pressed 'play'. But then I argued with myself that I would have had regrets either way, maybe even more so if I had never come to meet them. Possible regret at missing out on the opportunity to meet him – my father – in person had been an important catalyst.

For many months I had been determined not to go see him, figuring that my own personal confusion and identity crisis would be easier to suffer than the confrontation with my biological father. But then one night I had a dream, it was so real I wasn't entirely convinced that it was a dream until later in the morning. I dreamt that I had come to San Francisco, and like what actually happened today, Heero opened the door – of course in my dream he looked different, or rather, he had no face at all as I recall. Heero welcomed me inside and gestured for me to sit on the couch. I asked to see Duo and he replied that he would take me to see him soon, but before that he wanted to talk. He told me a life-story that I now hardly remember, it hadn't been important. Then, he finally invited me to come with him to see Duo. He drove us to a cemetery and guided me to a solemn headstone that read my father's name. Normally, you would wake up at such a point in a dream, but the dream continued relentlessly and I felt wrought with regret at missing out on meeting him. When I woke up my pillow had been wet with tears and I felt so nauseous I had to rush to the bathroom and hid out there by the toilet until dawn. In that moment I decided I had to meet him, regardless of how difficult it would be.

Still, I felt awfully foolish for not thinking it through better. What had I been expecting? What was I still expecting at that point? Had it been fair of me to come? I had only been thinking of myself, of my questions and of the gut-wrenching feeling within myself. My mother had uprooted my life with her confession, but as a result of that had I been justified to take the shovel from her and in turn uproot Duo's life? His entire family's life?

His family. It was too strange to think of them as my family, even though, in a very real way, they were. I had two older brothers and a young sister. That sounded so nice – so much so that an ignorant smile briefly tugged at my lips – but the reality was quite different; it was all a complicated mess. These weren't the siblings I had spent a childhood wishing for.

A commotion drew me to the door. I pressed my ear against it and focused on the raised voice.

"I can't believe her! I can't believe her!" Duo's powerful voice bellowed, stinging with the venom of resentment. "How could she do this to me? How could she have lied to me all this time? What made her think she had the right to keep him from me?"

Heero's responses were too soft for me to decipher. His words didn't seem to register with his husband either, who continued in a rage: "He is my son, Heero. My son!" His bitter laugh sounded wicked and was bone-chilling. "I'm so angry I could hurt her! I could physically hurt her!"

Dangerously curious I softly turned the doorknob and snuck into the hallway. The door to the master bedroom was around the corner at the end of the hallway, it sounded like it was open. I peered around the corner and felt a surge of nervous sweat when I could see Duo sitting on the foot of the bed and Heero standing in front of him.

"You're not angry," Heero observed calmly.

"I am!"

The shorter man shook his head. With a soothing voice he stated: "You're not angry, you're upset. You're hurt."

"I'm all of the above!" Duo exclaimed desperately, throwing his hands in the air, then letting them fall limply to his lap.

"I think her intentions were good," Heero defended my mother, much to my surprise. "I don't think she did it to hurt you, she cared about you too much to want to see you hurt."

Duo snorted and spat: "What makes you say that?"

"She named him after you."

Duo stilled, the comment hit home.

"You don't name a child after someone with any other intention than love and respect."

"How can you be so calm? I'm livid!"

Heero knelt in front of him. "Secretly, I had hoped for a long time that the child was in fact yours," He admitted. "When I came back from my trip, I saw how losing another child had devastated you and for years I indulged in the fantasy that Hilde would show up one day with a young child that looked like you. We had already lost so many children, I liked the idea of one… coming back to us, to soothe all the pain of loss from the past. I hadn't wanted it to take as long as it did, but when Maxwell showed up today and I saw you in all of his features, I was… relieved, in a way." He smiled up at his husband and explained: "I immediately saw the positive side: we've lost one child less. I thought somehow that would alleviate the burden of all those losses that we have been carrying around with us."

Duo gently cupped Heero's face and stared at him, mesmerized. Slowly he closed the distance between them, leaning in for a kiss.

When their eyes closed and their lips touched I turned and quietly went back to the guest bedroom. I lay down on the bed, heaving a sigh. I was conflicted. I felt guilty for being such an intruder, but at the same time I wanted to know more. I needed to know more.

Two hours later there was a knock on my door that woke me with a start. I stared at the horizontal door to the bathroom quizzically, I hadn't even realized I had fallen asleep. I sat up, the world tilting and spinning around me. I dragged my feet across the carpet to open the door. I wasn't surprised to see it was Heero, he seemed to be handling the situation better than his husband – better than anyone, in fact.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you?" He was asking out of politeness only, my disheveled clothes and loose, wayward hair made it unmistakably clear that I had been tossing and turning on the bed.

"No," I lied, also out of politeness.

"Would you like something to eat? We're ordering dinner."

I wanted to decline but my stomach betrayed me with a loud rumble. "What are you ordering?"

"Depends on what you are in the mood for," The man quipped, his exotic eyes narrowed with a bemused look.

"I like Japanese." Heero smiled at my answer and I figured he was probably Japanese.

"Okay. Would you like to join us downstairs or do you prefer to eat in your room?" He asked without judgment.

"Actually," I sheepishly scratched the back of my head, "I'd like to eat here, if that's alright." The emptiness in my stomach was painful, the sounds were embarrassing. I really had to eat but I didn't trust I would be able to swallow even a single bite sitting across from them at the dinner table.

"That's fine. I understand." He seemed genuine. "I'll bring it up."

"Thank you."

Heero nodded, then added as an afterthought: "Oh and Maxwell? We are more than willing to answer all your questions when you are ready to ask them, but we don't appreciate you trying to gather your information by spying on us. I realize we were being kind of loud and I apologize, but you shouldn't have stepped out into the hallway to eavesdrop."

My face was a deep, crimson red and blazing hot. "You noticed that, huh?"

He grinned. "I don't know what your mother told you about our involvement in the war, but you can trust that we will notice anyone who is trying to sneak around."

"I'm sorry."

"That's alright. I understand the impulse. I'll be up with your dinner shortly."

I watched him leave and felt the heat vacate my face.

He returned twenty minutes later with a plate filled with an assortment of tasty food and a large glass of soda. He set it down on the small table by the chairs in the corner.

"After dinner Duo and I are going to go over to Sunnery's place. It's been an overwhelming day for him as well and we need to talk to him."

I nodded dumbly.

"You are welcome to help yourself to anything in the kitchen."

"Thank you."

As I thoughtfully chewed the last of my food I heard the three of them – Duo, Heero and young Sala – leave the house. I could only imagine what the day had been like for them. In a way they probably had a more difficult time than I did, at least I had had a year to adjust the idea, they had to acclimate to the situation in a rushed pace. It was probably wrong of me to accept Heero's invitation to stay in their house, I hadn't intended to force myself onto them like that. I toyed with the idea of taking my suitcase back downstairs and leaving, to give them more time. What stopped me was the realization that it would be no less rude to dump this information on them and then just bail. Besides, if I left I didn't know if I would ever again find the courage to return.

The day hadn't really quenched my thirst for answers, so after walking my dishes to the kitchen and briefly giving some attention to the dog, I started exploring the house. The first thing I did was sit down at the piano and play a few tentative notes. The space filled with crisp if incomplete music, the tones were made warm and homey by the surroundings in which they evaporated and I listened to them drift away as if I had never heard them before. I dropped my hands into my lap and listened to the ticking of the clock, waiting for my heart to stop racing. Then I continued my journey through the house. I scrutinized the pictures on the mantelpiece again and I wondered of which child the in utero images were. Probably Sala, I figured, since the two sons weren't adopted until a later age.

Upstairs I only dared to stand in the doorways to the bedrooms. The master bedroom was expansive and was located opposite of the guest bedroom, also overlooking the courtyard at the back of the house. The bed was neatly made with the exception of the indentation in the sheets at the foot of the bed where Duo had sat. There were books on both nightstands. In the corner of the room, by the dresser, was a glass wall with photos – or postcards, rather – sandwiched in between two panes of glass. There were so many they created a private area for undressing. I was curious to see the images up close but I would be violating their trust by inviting myself into their bedroom like that.

I moved on to the next bedroom. Pink letters on the door spelled out the daughter's name. It was a typical young girl's room; a lot of pink and a lot of stuffed animals. The closet door was covered with the kind of drawings you could expect of a child her age; crude but innately endearing. Most of the drawings featured five stick figures and a black blob that were supposed to represent her family and the beloved pet. Papers and crayons were spread out on the floor and it appeared she had been dedicating her time to drawing Santa Clauses and reindeers.

The other two bedrooms had been the son's bedrooms and they had been kept the way the young men had left them when they moved out. I didn't think I would be able to guess which room belonged to whom, until I noticed the collection of Yale memorabilia stuck to the wall above the desk in one of the rooms and I remembered Heero telling me Annadal studied at Yale. It was a typical guy's room with a lot of cool-toned colors and carelessly mismatched furniture. There were a lot of books, the stacked shelves – slightly bowing under the weight – were the most distinguishing feature of the space. The other room, Sunnery's, was outfitted in shades of brown and green, offset by colorful jerseys of favorite sport teams. There was an old guitar propped up against the side of the desk. The wood of the guitar was worn with years of intensive use, whereas the surface of the desk was not. So unlike his brother he wasn't really big on studying and instead appeared to be an avid fan of music. The shelves in his room were cluttered with outdated CD's and ancient vinyl albums.

It was quite unnerving to realize I had something in common with this brother I had never met before today. And apparently I shared a love of literary works with Annadal. It was equally unsettling to think that under different circumstances we would likely have gotten along.

I went back to my room – my room? – and took a night shirt and sweatpants out of my suitcase. I didn't feel comfortable fully unpacking. I got changed and crawled into the bed.

When I woke up it was morning, early morning. What had awoken me were the excited calls of Sala downstairs and the dog barking as if he was having a conversation with her.

"Mommy! Mommy!" She called and ran around the house with remarkably loud footfalls.

Mommy? I blinked up at the ceiling. Was her biological mother here? Was she in touch with the family?

I kicked the sheets away from me and took my time showering and getting dressed before gathering up my nerve to head downstairs. Standing in the middle of the hallway I watched the child race by me towards the kitchen. She stopped abruptly and looked up at me with uncertain eyes. Then she seemed to remember me from our brief introduction the day before and she exclaimed: "You're Max!"

No one actually ever called me Max – I didn't really have any friends that knew me well enough to take the liberty of shortening my name and I never introduced myself as Max before, but it had seemed better than telling the young girl that my name was Maxwell. So with a shrug I replied: "Jup." I stood there like a sack of potatoes, not knowing what to do.

"Come! Come!" She reached out and grabbed my hand and tugged me along urgently. "My mommy is in the kitchen making breakfast!"

With raised eyebrows I let her guide me into the kitchen, where she let go of my hand.

"Mommy! Can Max have pancakes too?"

"Of course," Replied Heero, "If he wants pancakes he can have pancakes." He looked up at me with the question in his eyes.

"I'd… love pancakes…" I looked around the kitchen and sure enough the three of us were the only ones there. "Are you… 'mommy'?"

The man chuckled sheepishly. "It's something she picked up at preschool. She came home the first day and said that every other boy and girl there had a daddy and a mommy, not two daddies. And she figured that if that was true for everyone else, it must also be the case in her family. She gave it a lot of thought and, much to my horror and Duo's amusement, she decided that I am the mommy. We gave up on trying to explain to her that a family can also have two daddies and that only a woman can be a mommy. She'll get it when she's a little older."

"Oh." After a few minutes of silence Heero handed me a plate with a stack of pancakes and we all took a seat at the breakfast table by the bay window.

Sala poured figures of syrup onto her pancakes until her 'mommy' instructed her to eat them before they would get cold.

"Where's Duo?" I thought to ask.

"He's sorting out a couple of things at the garage, so he can take the rest of the week off," Heero answered matter-of-factly and then smiled watching his daughter trying to fit a big piece of pancake into her mouth, getting sticky syrup on her chin. He reached out with his napkin and wiped her clean while she busily chewed her mouthful.

"Garage?"

"Duo owns a garage. A chain of them actually. He's really hands-on and still likes to get his hands dirty, so he just has to shuffle the schedule a little to get some extra time off."

"Daddy comes home with his hands black-"

"Don't talk with your mouth full, sweetie."

She hurriedly chewed and dutifully swallowed before continuing: "And he has black smears on his face and- and then mommy has black smears on his face too when daddy kisses him. And one time- one time daddy chased me around the house with his black hands and when he caught me he rubbed his fingers on my cheeks and got my face all dirty and I laughed so hard! I laughed so hard I scared the puppy." Out of breath she added: "Reynor was just a puppy then. He was scared of a lot of things! Now, he is a bigbig dog and he isn't scared of anything. Except the vacuum cleaner. He's scared of the vacuum cleaner." She smiled broadly, exposing missing teeth.

"Wow, so he is a brave dog, huh?" I responded. "I bet you don't have to be scared of anything with a such a brave dog to protect you."

Sala giggled. "I sleep with a nightlight because I'm scared of the dark. Even when I snuck Reynor upstairs to sleep in bed with me I was scared of the dark, so mommy leaves a light on for me. I'm not scared with the light on. And it's a really small light! So it's almost dark!"

"Then you are very brave too."

She giggled again. "Am not."

"You're good with her," Heero noted with a fond smile. "Do you- Do you have brothers or sisters? I mean… Well, you know what I mean."

I nodded. "Yeah, but I don't have any siblings. I always wanted them."

"Then I guess now you do," Heero remarked, "If you want, that is."

I didn't answer, I didn't know yet what I wanted, or what kind of claim I even had to this family.

Sala jumped out of her seat and rushed to the hallway at the sound of the front door opening. Reynor trotted after her.

"Hey Sally!"

"Daddy, mommy made pancakes!"

"Your favorite?! What on earth did you do to deserve that?"

"I'm a good girl!"

"That you are…" His words trailed off when he stepped into the kitchen, carrying Sala, and his eyes fell on me. "Good morning."

"Good morning," I replied dutifully.

He walked around me and bent over to place a chaste kiss on Heero's lips. "Hey,' He whispered to him lovingly.

"Hey."

Duo sat his daughter back down in her chair and urged her to finish her breakfast. He took a seat next to her, across from me. "Did you sleep well?"

"Surprisingly, I did."

"Good. That's good."

I worried the inside of my cheek with my teeth. "How did your conversation with Sunnery go?"

He and Heero exchanged looks. "He took it reasonably well. He was shocked," Duo recounted, "And it wasn't that long ago that we told him my full history with Hilde… so the topic is still particularly sensitive." After a thoughtful pause he added: "I would really like for you two to be able to properly meet, when you are both ready."

"I'd like that too," I concurred unenthusiastically, "Although I'm not sure when that will be."

"I know he came off really severe yesterday. It was only due to the circumstances. He's a really kind and approachable guy, his friends don't call him 'The Gentle Giant' without reason."

"I don't doubt that he is a nice guy, but like you said, the circumstances change things and the circumstances are what they are. I'm not sure he'd be happy to meet me anytime soon."

"What does 'circastances' mean?" Sala wondered with an innocently curious voice.

Duo chuckled warmly. "Circumstances," he clarified, "are the conditions of a situation; what you are feeling and what you are doing, or have been doing."

The young girl didn't look any less confused but nodded vehemently nonetheless, making her parents smile.

"It's a big word," her 'mommy' assured her.

Sala nodded. "I'm too little for big words."

"Yes, you are, but not for long. You're getting bigger every day!" Duo called and he rose from his seat and picked her up with a grunt. "Let's get you ready to go to miss Patty."

"I'll take her," Heero intervened and reached out for her. "You should stay with Max." He carried Sala out of the kitchen and her little hand waved goodbye at me over his shoulder.

My father sat back down at the table, the movements of his limbs stiff and uncomfortable, reflecting the atmosphere between us. I shifted in my seat and alternated the focus of my gaze between the surface of the table and his face. Slight wisps of chestnut hair that had freed themselves from the ponytail framed aged but handsome features. He had lines of his forehead – frown lines, but the lines around his mouth were deeper; he had laughed a lot. His eyes conveyed a maturity in their calmly observant expression, but a youthful, mischievous glint lingered in the orbs of undefined shade. His hands were big, with pronounced, wiry veins and rough callouses on his palms and fingertips. I didn't know what it was about him, but he carried himself with a dignity that made him seem taller yet no less approachable.

When I caught him scrutinizing me I wondered what his eyes saw. I only ever saw a disheveled kid, too skinny for my height. It was strange to think I was looking at my father and he was looking at his son.

"I imagine you have questions for me," He started abruptly.

"It is why I came," I admitted. "But asking them is harder than I expected it would be."

"You don't have to be scared to ask questions."

"It's not that…" It were the potential answers that frightened me. What if I were to discover he was a horrible person, what did that say about me? How do you fight genetics that are so strong your face is only a slightly distorted reflection of your father's? "I guess… I guess I'd like to know what happened between you and my mom."

His eyebrows raised. "She didn't tell you?"

"She only said you left her to be with Heero, who showed up out of the blue."

He nodded in understanding. "I suppose that is what it must have been like for her. I mean no offense to Hilde, but our relationship was never good. Our romantic relationship that is. I soon realized we were best as friends, but by then I had already made a commitment to her and I was too afraid that the truth of my… indifference regarding our romance would deeply hurt her."

Following the recent, shocking truths that had been revealed to me, I felt certain in my assertion that always being truthful was best, even if you think you are protecting somebody by feeding them a lie. The lie may have a better taste to it, but it festers in the pit of the stomach and corrupts everything.

"When I was with Hilde on L2, I thought a lot about Heero. I had lived with him on Earth for a year before moving up to L2 to be with Hilde. I missed him and it wasn't before long I realized why I missed him as much as I did… I loved him. I tried to find him, but I couldn't. I felt so lonely, I couldn't stand the thought of losing Hilde's company, so I didn't put an end to our relationship when I should have."

"It was selfish of you."

Rather than defending himself, which I had been expecting, he agreed. "I was being selfish. I didn't fully comprehend that at the time, I thought I was doing her a favor as well, but you are right, it was selfish and wrong of me to lead her on." After a pause, trying to read my expression, he continued: "Heero showed up two years later. It wasn't until I saw him that night that I realized I could not go on living without him. It was in that moment that I realized how empty my life had been. I had been denying myself true love and I had been denying Hilde the opportunity for true love as well. I chased after Heero that night, to never return… There were many things I should have done differently, but although I have now come to that realization, there is nothing I can do now to change what I did. I was only eighteen years old, everyone thought me mature beyond my age, but I in many regards I was still just a kid."

"Eighteen…" I echoed.

"Yeah."

"I didn't know that."

"It's no excuse. It doesn't change anything. I treated your mother poorly. I had blinders on, all I saw was Heero. He was all I could focus on."

I nodded, although I couldn't fully understand the gravity he was alluding to, as I had never been truly in love. I hadn't yet experienced that full devotion to a single person that was someone other than yourself. It was rather obvious to me I was still the selfish young kid that Duo also admitted to being at that age. "So you never loved my mom?"

His smile was sorrowful. "Not the way she wanted me to."

"But you did love Heero?"

"Yes. Wholeheartedly. I still do."

I frowned at my hands, fidgeting in my lap. "If you never loved my mom but loved Heero instead, how is it possible that I am here?"

Duo's gaze dropped down to his own hands, folded tensely on top of the table.

"I am too young to have been conceived while you were still dating her," I concluded, a venomous tone to my voice. "If you love Heero and never loved my mom, why would you cheat on him with her?"

"That's a more complicated story."

"Well, I'm quite smart, I'm sure I'll get it if you explain it to me slowly, with small words," I spat sarcastically.

He didn't get angry with me for my attitude, even though he probably had the right to. His expression was one of hurt and guilt. "I love Heero, that has never changed and will never change," He began solemnly. "But sometimes things can get so painful that even that kind of love isn't enough to ease away the hurt. I was in such… agony that I wasn't thinking straight. I was foolishly and selfishly looking for a balm to treat my wounds."

"Why were you wounded?"

"Heero and I had been trying to adopt for quite a while at the time and every time it fell through. We came so close, only to be disappointed. After all those failed attempts we decided to try to have a child through surrogacy. But-" He took a moment to compose himself, "the birth mother fell down a flight of stairs and at six months our son was stillborn."

My shoulders slumped, my anger leaving me in a quiet exhale.

"It was very difficult." He chuckled bitterly at the understatement. "Heero and I were both heartbroken and our different ways of dealing with the loss clashed. Heero wanted to forget, wanted to pretend it never happened, he didn't know how else to manage. I, on the other hand, needed to talk about it, needed it to be acknowledged. I needed help to try and find a place for it. It came to a point where all I could do was yell at him and all he could do was ignore me. Our behavior only made it more difficult for the other. When nearly a year had passed since the birth and death of our son, Leander,"

I reeled at the name. It echoed in my head. I knew it from a Greek tragedy and then all of a sudden it was a personal tragedy.

"I wanted to commemorate the day, so about a month before the anniversary I tried talking about him to Heero, but we still weren't on the same page. We weren't even in the same book. What I had wanted to be a rational, openhearted discussion turned into another fight, a very bad fight. I said all the wrong things and Heero said all the wrong things and in the end he told me he didn't love me anymore, that he didn't want me to touch him… that he wanted me to leave." He momentarily lost himself in the memory. "I should have known better, I should have known that he didn't mean it. I should have stayed with him, but I didn't, I walked out. I was so hurt, I needed someone to tell me it was going to be okay, I needed someone to comfort me and Heero couldn't give me that, he was too distraught himself. I spent the night in a motel and I ended up reaching out to Hilde. We had more or less patched things up at that point and I was in dire need of a friend. I hadn't asked for it, but she came to see me and she said all the things I wanted to hear. I indulged in her kindness and in the numbness that alcohol provided. I don't know exactly how it happened, but there was a bed and at some point we ended up sprawled across it and I wanted more of that warmth and that ignorance. I failed to think of Heero. I failed to consider the consequences. I let it happen, not once pausing to think how much I would regret it the next morning. I-" He stopped himself and looked at me, like it only then dawned on him that the story he was telling was my story, the story of how I came to be. "I cared for your mother, but I was never going to give up on Heero and I. And my mistake only made it all the more difficult for us to move past our pain and come together again. When I told Heero of my unfaithfulness and later of the pregnancy, I watched him collapse in on himself even more. That wasn't what I wanted and that is why I always regretted that night."

Tears stung my eyes. I wasn't just an unplanned child, I wasn't just an unwanted child, I was a child born of pain and grief and received with loathing and fear.

"But when Hilde told me she was pregnant, I- It wasn't like I didn't want you," He insisted, "Because I did. I wanted a child. I wanted you." His eyes welled up and his voice cracked. "But it was difficult because I couldn't stand the thought of losing Heero."

"And that is why she lied to you, right?" I asked with wavering voice. "That is why she told you I wasn't yours, so you would be free to be with Heero?"

He breathed: "I think so…"

I sighed and tried to inconspicuously wipe away the tears that clung to my lower lashes. "Well, at least her lie did some good…" I gasped when he reached out and touched my hand that I had rested on the surface of the table.

"I am not grateful for her lie. There wasn't a single moment that I wished you weren't mine."

"Shit," I cursed when I felt more tears threatening to spill. I used my free hand to cover my face while the other trembled in Duo's grip. "Fuck, I didn't want you to see me cry," I spoke pathetically but I already started sobbing.

"It's okay. It's fine…" Duo said soothingly and from the pitch in his voice I could tell he was freely crying too.

"I- I feel… so horrible," I stammered between sharp breaths. "I ruined everybody's life."

"No! No! I'm certain you made your mother happy when you were born. And… And you make me happy now."

I lowered my hand to stare at him with red, sore eyes.

"I'm happy that you're my son. I only wish I had known all along."

"But then you wouldn't have Heero," I pointed out.

He shook his head morosely. "Your mother's lie could not fix what was broken between me and Heero. I went into that hospital alone to meet you. Heero couldn't go through with it. He was away for two years, not knowing what your mother had told me. When he came back he had been ready to be with me and with you and with Hilde. I can't say for sure if things would have worked out, but he had been willing to try. I think we could have made it work. I would have liked to have been able to find out. I always considered I lost you the same way we lost Leander and I always mourned that loss."

I yanked my hand away. "Look, I didn't come here to get myself a 'daddy'. I just needed some answers. I don't want you to get the idea that somehow we're going to be a family, that I am the lost son returning to you." I jumped out of my seat and sprinted upstairs. Once in the guest bedroom I started stuffing my toothbrush and yesterday's clothes back into my suitcase, but as I angrily zipped it up, getting my favorite shirt caught in the zipper, ruining it, I realized that I couldn't leave. Nothing had been resolved, I hadn't found the peace of mind that I had come looking for. I still didn't understand who I was now that homosexual war-veteran Duo was my father instead of straight, bookish, barely-there Greg and now that my mother was a liar.

There was a knock on the door not half an hour later. Someone was eager to get right back on the horse…

"Come in," I called, still seated on the carpet by my haphazardly packed suitcase.

Duo popped his head in. He observed me and then decided to completely ignore the implication of me being in the middle of zipping up my suitcase. "Hey."

"Hey."

"Can I come in?"

"I already said you could. Besides, it's your house."

He sighed, he didn't seem to like my snappy remark. He came in and took a seat on the foot of the bed, leaning his elbows on his knees. "About what you said downstairs… I'm not trying to force you into any involvement with this family. I have no expectations, I have no demands. I just wanted to let you know that whatever you want from me, I am willing to give you. If you want to leave right now," He nodded at the suitcase, "and never see me again, I'll respect that. If you want to be a part of the family, to whatever extent you are comfortable with, I am happy to invite you in. And anything in between."

"Thanks…" I played nervously with the piece of my shirt sticking out of the suitcase. "I don't want to leave right now…"

He breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. That's good."

"I would like to get to know you."

"I would like to get to know you too."

"Alright," I looked around myself uncertainly. "Maybe we should approach this a little more casually. Like… just talk about stuff… like your job or something. Heero said you own a couple of garages."

"Yeah. I started working as a mechanic at this garage downtown over twenty-five years ago and the guy who owned it left it to me when he passed away. He didn't have any kids and when I worked for him we became good friends. But even though I own it and several other shops, I pretty much steer clear of the office-part of the job, I prefer to work on the cars myself."

"So you fix cars."

"I restore vintage cars."

"Cool," I responded flatly.

"Do you like cars?"

"Not really… and I don't know the first thing about the mechanics."

Duo chuckled kindly. "Well, what do you like?"

"Uhm…" Somehow our casual conversation felt very intimate to me. "Music. I like music."

"Great. Do you play an instrument?"

I scratched the back of my neck. "Quite a few actually," The pride and joy in my tone just slipped by me unnoticed. "But the piano is my favorite."

"We have a piano."

"Yeah, I saw it. Do you play?"

He chuckled and moved to join me on the floor leaning his back against the bed. "Not really. Heero plays the piano, but he's not schooled or anything. What about you?"

"I've been taking piano lessons since I was six. I study music at the George Washington University."

"Wow," He appeared genuinely impressed and intrigued.

"I want to become a composer… like for movies and plays and stuff."

"That's incredible."

I blushed and ducked my head. "Thanks." Eager to fill the silence that settled between us, although it wasn't necessarily an uncomfortable silence, I inquired: "What about your sons? What do they study?"

"Well, Sunnery actually did a minor in Jazz studies. Music is his life. But he chose to major in Art History, because he liked the idea of being able to teach as a back-up plan. He currently works as a sub at a high school and some nights he has gigs in Jazz clubs. Annadal studies Biomedical Engineering at Yale, he comes home talking about stuff that I don't understand the least of. He's in Barcelona now for an exchange program."

"Yeah, Heero told me."

"Right," He smiled.

"What does Heero do?"

His smile broadened at my apparent interest. "Heero works as a freelance hacker, slash programmer, slash web-designer. Pretty much whenever someone on the West coast has some kind of computer-trouble, he comes to their rescue."

"So a mechanic and a hacker…" I mused. "Is that what you did during the war?"

He let out a hearty laugh. "I suppose that was a small aspect of it."

"What else did you do?'

He looked at me with a mischievous grin. "What we did during the war can't really be considered as 'casual stuff', so I'm not sure if we should dive into that topic right now. It's a pretty astounding story. It certainly had a big impact on Sunny and Anny when we told them."

Deciding to drop the war-topic then, I wondered: "Sunny and Anny?"

"Just nicknames Sala came up with. They stick."

"Sounds like you have a pretty idyllic family…"

Duo snorted in response. "Oh, I wish. There's no major drama or anything, but we aren't perfect. Sunny and I head-butt constantly, we both have short tempers and completely opposite world views. Both him and Anny always take Heero's side in an argument, only Sala ever stands up for me," He laughed and shook his head and jokingly added: "And it took forever to housetrain Reynor."

I let out a single chuckle.

"What about your family?"

The question stung a little. "It's just me and my mom… We used to get along really well and… I was content and stuff. But lately, since she told me about you, things haven't been the same. I find it hard to even just talk to her. I've been avoiding her."

"I guess it's important to understand that she did it with the best intentions…"

I stared at him. "Could you forgive her? Do you?"

He shrugged, uncertain of the answer. "I'm not sure. I don't think it'd feel particularly forgiving if I were to see her in the near future, but at the same time I can't imagine never being able to move past it. I forgave her for tricking me into thinking a baby was mine when she said that wasn't the case… I'd like to think I could again forgive her for lying."

I shook my head. "She's a different person to me now. I always thought of her as honest and trustworthy, but she's not and I don't like how that affects her and our relationship. It also…" I sighed. "It makes me question things about myself. In a way I feel like I don't know who I am anymore. I'm the son of a different mother than I thought. I'm the son of a different father than I thought."

Duo looked at me with understanding eyes. "I don't think that changes who you are. You are more than the son of your parents, you are your own person."

Maybe, I thought, but nature and nurture had to be at work to a certain extent. "So much for casual stuff," I scoffed, then offered him a smile.

"Yeah," He concurred, reflecting my smile.

The conversation was the start of an awkward but not entirely uncomfortable week. Although we had yet to establish a normal way in which to interact we managed to prevent tense silences by having quiet talks about mostly unimportant matters. In many ways it didn't feel like I was struggling to get to know someone knew, it was more like I was reacquainting with an old friend that I got out of touch with. Small things that were revealed to me made me feel like I already knew Duo and Heero – or like I had known them in a past life. Their presence felt familiar. I could hear myself, from years ago, in Heero's untrained yet mesmerizing play of the piano. I saw myself in the disarming inelegance of Duo as he played with his daughter, or teased Heero. When I saw the two of them together, lounging on the couch, or navigating the space of the kitchen as they quarreled over who ruined the pasta, or exchanging kisses when they thought I wasn't paying attention to them, I was reminded of dreams I had had of what my family would have been like if Greg – who I then believed to be my father - and my mother were together.

I think they hid their more intimate interactions from me because they worried I would be uncomfortable or would disprove and while I too expected that to be the case, I discovered I got used to the idea of them together surprisingly rapidly. They were so natural together, such a great fit. After only a few days it was apparent to me that they belonged together, in the deepest, most sappy way imaginable. One night I heard them make love. They tried to be quiet but still my trained ears were able to discern Duo's throaty groans and Heero's higher pitched gasps. I felt embarrassed and mortified like I imagined anyone would be hearing their parents have sex, even though I repeatedly reminded myself that they were not really my parents. Or were they? The lines were starting to get blurred.

Duo told me halfway through the week that they had contacted Hilde. Duo told me it had been a short conversation, he confessed that he hadn't known what to say. I could sympathize with that, I experienced the same thing, which is why I hadn't even bothered to call her. I had nothing to say to her.

When it was two days before Christmas Duo and Heero asked me if I would like to stay with them during the Holiday. I surprised them – I think pleasantly so – by instantly accepting their invitation. Although my heart did sink a little when they reminded me Annadal would arriving the next day and he and Sunnery would be staying at the house until the first of January. And of course friends would be joining them for a dinner on Christmas day.

Heero and Duo left to pick Annadal up from the airport and pick up Sunnery along the way. Annadal had already been informed of the situation by way of a long-distance phone call that I understood to be emotional.

I offered to watch over Sala while they were away. I played with her to distract her from my nerves. She had proceeded to call me 'Maxxie', even though I was given permission to formally introduce myself as Maxwell. It had grown on me, the new name. Duo and Heero had taken to calling me Max and for some reason it made me feel special, like I was this whole new, interesting person with them and I kind of liked this 'Max', or 'Maxxie'. With his nickname he felt like a better fit in the family of 'Daddy', 'Mommy', 'Sunny', 'Anny' and 'Sally'.

The toy I had been holding fell to the floor and I scrambled upright when the front door opened.

Duo and Heero came into the living room first, closely followed by their sons, who looked exactly like they did in the picture on the mantelpiece.

Annadal was as tall as his brother, but built slight and elegantly. His ice-blue eyes were piercing as he scrutinized me with a calculating glare.

"Guys, this is Maxwell," Said Duo when Sala was done hugging both her brothers, and he moved to stand beside me for support.

The blond son reached out a stiff hand towards me.

I shook his hand cautiously.

"I'm Annadal. But they all call me Anny. That's Sala's fault," He stated dryly.

I got the distinct impression he was the more introverted, socially stunted one of the family. "Hi. It's good to meet you."

"He sounds like dad too," Annadal remarked, after previously leaving the 'he-looks-like-him' comment unspoken. "So your name is Maxwell?"

I nodded.

"Then your name is technically Maxwell Maxwell."

Sunnery snickered but molded his expression into something indifferent after being on the receiving end of Heero's glare.

"Technically my name is Maxwell Schbeicker."

"Right, of course." He looked at his fathers and announced: "It's been a long flight. I'm tired. I'm going to sleep for a little while." He pivoted on his heels and marched away. Eventually his brother followed him upstairs.

Duo released a sigh. "I think that went quite well."

I cocked an eyebrow. "You do?"

"Well… he didn't make you cry. He has a habit of making people cry."

Nice, I thought.

Heero urged me not to worry too much about it. They were just being antagonistic out of insecurity, or so he claimed.

The next day I was sitting in the guest bedroom, reading a book I had borrowed from Heero when Sunnery appeared in the doorway.

"Mind if I come in?" He asked after a quiet knock on the wide open door.

"Door's open."

He stepped inside and looked around like he had never seen the guest bedroom. He was nervous.

I noticed he was holding the old guitar I had spotted in his room a few days ago, that made me hopeful he had come to reach out to me. That or he planned to beat me to death with the instrument.

"Can I sit?" He pointed at the unoccupied chair.

"Sure."

He sat down gingerly and took the guitar into his lap. "So… What's up?"

"I'm fine. You?"

"I'm good." He scrunched up his face at the forced exchange of niceties.

Taking a leap I commented: "Your dad told me you studied Jazz music."

"My dad?" He asked with raised eyebrows, emphasizing the first word.

I shrugged.

He dropped it and replied: "Yeah, I graduated this year. He told me you're studying music."

"Yeah. I want to compose."

"That's cool." He chewed his lip.

As the silence stretched I wondered: "What are you doing here?"

"Dad practically forced me to come in here with my guitar."

"Which one?"

"Huh?"

I chuckled. "Which dad?"

He let out a breathy laugh. "Uh, 'mommy'. Don't tell him I called him that, I promised I wouldn't. It's just so funny."

"Your secret is safe with me." I struggled to keep the words coming, in coherent sentences no less. "So, you like Jazz huh?"

A broad smile appear on his lips. "Yeah, I love it. I especially like Soul Jazz. I play the saxophone mostly, a guitar like this doesn't really give that Jazz feel, you know? This thing in particular," He maneuvered the guitar in his lap, "bought this cheap thing when I was fourteen, before I had even 'discovered' Jazz. You get better sound out of fish wires strung across an empty tuna can." He plucked at the strings to produce a short melody. The sound was crude, but not as horrible as he described. "My dad really likes you, you know?" He spoke softly as his fingers continued to draw muted sounds from the instrument.

"Which one?" I asked again.

He snorted, but smiled. "Both."

"I like them too," I admitted.

"But?"

I shook my head. "There's no but."

"They're gay, there's always a but." He chuckled at what was apparently an inside joke.

"I don't mind that they're gay. They're nice together."

"They are," He agreed absent-mindedly, "You can tell they really still love each other… and still have the hots for each other too. After all those years... It's not natural," He joked.

"Are you-" I stopped myself but when he looked up at me I knew I had already said too much and I might as well ask the question properly. "Are you gay?"

"Why would you even ask that?" He asked calmly.

"Because you were raised by two gay dads."

He shook his head, bemused. "It doesn't work like that. They didn't 'turn me gay'. I'm straight. Anny thinks he's bi, but honestly, he has never even really dated, boy nor girl, it's all still theoretical to him. Are you worried having a gay dad somehow influences your sexuality?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. It had crossed my mind."

"I don't think it works like that either. Have you had girlfriends?" He inquired casually.

I blushed. "Yeah. A couple."

"Was it nice?"

I gave it some serious thought and concluded: "Yes, very."

He smirked. "Unless that changes I wouldn't worry too much about it if I were you."

"Thanks."

He frowned. "What for?"

"I never really had someone to talk to about stuff like this."

"Well, you do now. You have two big brothers now," Sunnery said matter-of-factly, focusing on his fingers that manipulated the strings.

I didn't argue with him, instead I accepted it. Whereas the idea had scared me only a few days ago, I kind of liked it. Having two big brothers – and by extension a younger sister – made me feel like a more complete person. I'm Max, I thought to myself, I have two big brothers and a baby sister. I liked the sound of that. "Can I play a little?"

He looked at me in surprise. "I thought you play the piano?"

"I also play guitar and violin, among others."

He shrugged and handed me the instrument. He sat back and listened to me play. "I'm sorry I was kind of a dick before," He started out of nowhere.

I stilled my fingers. "It's fine."

"I was just shocked, you know? And sometimes I can still get really mad at dad, since he told me he cheated that one time, even though it was a long time ago."

"I understand."

"Cool."

And just like that it was; cool. It would take me and Annadal a while longer to get along, but he quickly got over his hostility.

Before the guests would be arriving on Christmas day I wandered into the master bedroom. Heero was sitting on the edge of the bed, tying his shoes, his hair still damp from the shower he had taken. He looked nice in black slacks and a white button-up shirt. He looked better than I did, in a similar outfit that Duo had lent me. The clothes were a bit too big on me, I was far skinnier than Duo.

"Hey," I said awkwardly.

"Hey. Nervous?"

"A little."

He smiled and straightened up. "Don't be. You look good."

"Thanks." I inched closer to the wall of postcards in the corner. I had forgotten about them, but when my eyes landed on them my curiosity was piqued anew. "I had been meaning to ask you about these," I gazed at the images of wildly differing landscapes and mixture of modern and historic architecture. Heero went on an impromptu trip around the world when he decided, on the day of my birth, that he needed some time for himself. I assumed the postcards were tokens from his journey.

Heero confirmed my suspicion by answering: "I sent them to Duo while I was on my soul-searching trip. It was the only contact we had for two years. I was moving around a lot, obviously, so he could never respond. And it was probably better that way, if I had found out what Hilde had told him I would have come rushing back to him to comfort him, even though I don't think it would have done us much good. I really needed that time for myself. To figure out who I was, other than Duo's husband."

I nodded. "Maybe I should go on a trip around the world."

Heero chuckled. "It's not cheap. It's not easy either. But if you think it's the right thing to do I would encourage it."

"I don't know," I replied, studying the images. "Sometimes I just don't know who I am anymore. I thought coming here and getting to know Duo would help me figure out who I was exactly."

Heero came to stand beside me. In a quiet tone he said: "I don't think you can find out who you are by heading back to where you came from. You can only find out who you are by determining where you are going."

I blinked at him. The words hit home.

"It's just what I think. I don't believe your genetic lineage is the key to understanding who you are. I never knew my parents, neither did Duo, but we managed to figure things out; we found our way."

I stared at the postcards pondering over what he said, realizing it was the truth.

"Are you okay?"

I nodded mutely.

"I'm going to go downstairs and set things up. Come down whenever you're ready." He departed with inaudible footfalls.

My eyes trailed down the wall, following the chronological order of the postcards that started out in the green landscape of Canada, then jumped the Atlantic ocean to Europe, zigzagged down the African continent, bounced through the Middle East and travelled down Russia, taking a detour to Japan, heading further south through China, Thailand and Indonesia and lingering in Australia before flying over to Argentina and slowly making its way North until it ended abruptly with a final postcard from the Mexican/American border.

I walked around to wall to read the scribbles on the back of a select number of postcards.

_I canoed up the Yukon and camped on the riverbanks. A bear stole my fish._

_I was in The Netherlands and went to see Hendrik, but he died a few years ago._

_I'm traveling through Mongolia on horseback. I'm thinking of you. I'm missing you._

_Next stop: Japan. I am homesick for you. But I'm not ready to come home yet._

_Everyone in Australia is so kind and open. They all remind me of you._

I heard the first of the guests coming in through the front door. I bent over to quickly read the last postcard. I wanted to be downstairs while the guests were arriving, so I could meet them one at a time as they showed up.

_There is only one more thing I want to do: a road trip across the United States._

I frowned. Why weren't there any postcards of that leg of his journey?

"What's with the face?" Duo appeared in the doorway.

"I was just wondering why the postcards ended there."

Duo smiled. "Because two days after I received that card Heero showed up at my doorstep and gave me the keys to a vintage car he had bought and asked me to come with him. We travelled throughout the USA together, so there was no need for him to send me any postcards. I was right there with him."

"Wow…"

"I know, it's an excellent story to tell at parties," He smirked. "Speaking of which, let's head downstairs."

I followed him downstairs where he introduced me to his friends as they all started to arrive. Quatre and Trowa Barton and WuFei and Sally Chang, people they knew from the war, which I still didn't know much about. The last couple to arrive introduced themselves as Nicky and Mark Bryar. It wasn't really said how they knew Duo and Heero, but they seemed close.

I had expected to feel left out and shunned, but that was far from the case. Everyone was remarkably kind and welcoming. Duo introduced me as his son, Max, and I was only greeted with smiles and genuine interest. I felt like I was part of the family and during dinner I let out an abrupt laugh, earning odd looks, when I remembered something Annadal had sad.

I really was 'Maxwell Maxwell'.

"Nothing, I'm sorry," I mumbled into my napkin at the curious stares. I let myself disappear into the background momentarily to observe the group. Heero and Duo were at opposite ends of the table, but from the way they exchanged looks it seemed like they were still able to have an intimate conversation with each other, no words required. Sala sat to Duo's left, she had her own Christmas meal of fries and pieces of crispy chicken shaped like stars that she played with more than she ate them. Sunnery and Annadal were seated next to Heero, across the table from each other. Annadal was trying to explain something 'science-y' to his brother, completely unaware that he was being made fun of by Sunnery who mimicked his impassioned hand gestures, but his smile was warm and his eyes held no malice. Quatre, a man with platinum blond hair, sat next to his husband, Trowa, who was taller than all the others, including 'The Gentle Giant'. They were reminiscing with the couple seated across from them, the athletic looking WuFei and his beautiful wife Sally, who regularly produced pictures of their children from their pockets to proudly show everyone. Nicky and Mark, to Duo's right, shared a soft conversation with him and for whatever reason, as he talked with them, Duo kept looking at Heero, his smile one of complete joy. Then suddenly his eyes found me and his expression remained utterly happy.

I smiled shyly in return and then excused myself. I made my way upstairs and searched the pockets of the jeans I had been wearing for my phone.

For the first time in a long time I missed my mother. I hadn't longed to talk to her ever since she confessed she had been lying, I had dreaded and avoided it, in fact. We had hardly spoken for over a year and I had been fine with that, busily processing the new information and new emotions. But as I saw the Maxwells, the Bartons, the Changs and the Bryars have dinner together I realized my mother was alone this Christmas – for the first time since I was born – and part of me deeply regretted not being home with her. No matter how close I started to feel to my biological father, his husband and my new siblings, my mother would always be family too. No mistake could undo that. Now that I had seen that in spite of the horrible lies she told – with the intention of protecting the people she loved – we would all land on our feet and we could all still be happy, together, regardless of past hurts and missed moments, I felt the last of my resentment for her actions wash way. After all, I would never know for certain if things had worked out for the better if she had told everyone the truth from the start, but I did know for certain everything would work out now.

My world was a lot bigger now, that was more scary, but also more exciting and filled with more than I could have every imagined.

I held the phone to my ear. It rang only once, she must have been hoping I would call.

"Maxwell…" She breathed.

"Hey mom…" I smiled at her elated greeting. "Merry Christmas, mom. I love you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading this story. I hope you enjoyed it and if you want to share your thoughts on the story with me I would really appreciate it. 
> 
> If you enjoyed this story and you are interested in reading more of my work, look me (ExecutiveShrimp) up at www.fanfiction.net. I have several more stories, albeit WIP's, that might be to your liking. If you do not want to start reading a story that is, as of yet, incomplete, then keep an eye out for updates on my acount on this site. Once a story is completed I will also upload it here. 
> 
> Thank you very much,
> 
> ExecutiveShrimp


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